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THE 


ILEWM  AMID)  THIM 


OF   THE    REVEREND 


GEORGE    WHITEFIELD,    M.  A 


ROBERT   PHILIP, 

AUTHOR   OF   THE    EXPERIMENTAL   GUIDES,   KTC.    ETC.    ETC. 


"  Thou  art  permitted  to  speak  for  thyself."— A ctb. 
"  That  seraphic  man  !  "—Reed. 


NEW-YORK: 
D.    APPLETON   &    CO.,   200,    BROADWAY. 


M  DCCC  XXXVIII. 


niw-vori: 

HENRY    LUDWIG,    PRINTER, 

No.  72,  Vesey-street. 


TO 

JOSHUA    WILSON,    ESQ. 

THIS  WORK, 

SUGGESTED    BY    HIS    VENERABLE    FATHER, 

THE    FOUNDER    AND    TREASURER 

OF 

HIGHBURY  COLLEGE, 

AND 

ENRICHED   FROM    HIS    OWN   VALUABLE    LIBRARY, 

IS    INSCRIBED, 

BY    niS    OLD    FRIEND, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


Newington  Greek, 
May  10, 1837. 


PREFACE. 


This  work  is  chiefly  from  Whitefield's  own  pen. 
So  far  as  it  is  mine,  it  is  in  his  own  spirit.  It  will, 
therefore,  help  all  that  is  good,  and  expose  not  a  little 
of  what  is  wrong,  in  all  churches  ;  and  thus,  like  his 
actual  life,  tell  upon  both.  At  least,  if  it  fail  to  do  this, 
my  object  will  be  defeated.  Should  its  honest  catholicity 
commend  it,  it  may  be  followed  by  similar  "  Annals 
and  Illustrations  of  Evangelical  Preaching,"  from  the 
dawn  of  the  Reformation  to  the  close  of  the  last  century. 

In  regard  to  the  style  of  this  work  I  have  nothing 
to  say  ;  except  that  it  is  my  own  way  of  telling  the  facts 
of  personal  history.  The  time  is  not  yet  come,  for  the 
philosophy  of  Whitefield's  Life.  It  is,  however,  fast 
approaching :  and,  therefore,  my  mass  of  facts  will  soon 
be  turned  to  good  account  by  myself,  or  by  some  one. 
In  the  mean  time,  Whitefield  will  be  known  to  the 
public ;  which  he  was  not  until  now. 

R.  P. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.  page 

whitefield's  earlt  life,  education,  and  ordination  ....     11 

CHAPTER  II. 

WHITEFIELD'S    INTRODUCTION    TO    LONDON 53 

CHAPTER  III. 

WHITEFIELD'S    FIRST    VOYAGE    AND    VISIT    TO    GEORGIA 60 

CHAPTER  IV. 

WHITEFIELD'S    FIRST    GREAT    MEASURES    IN    LONDON,    1739,          ...       77 

CHAPTER  V. 

WHITEFIELD'S    FIRST    VISITS    TO    THE    COUNTRY 99 

CHAPTER  VI. 

WHITEFIELD    IN7    WALES Ill 

CHAPTER  VII. 

WHITEFIELD    IN    AMERICA 135 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

WHITEFIELD'S    BREACH    WITH    WESLEY 1S9 

CHAPTER  IX. 

WHITEFIELD    IN    SCOTLAND,    1741 210 

CHAPTER  X. 

WHITEFIELD    AND    THE    DISSENTERS 242 


V1H  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XI.                                    pack 
whitefield's  domestic  life 253 

CHAPTER  XIL 

WHITEFIELD    AT    CAMBUSLANG 278 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

WHITEFIELD    ITINERATING  292 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

WHITEFIELD    ITINERATING    IN    AMERICA,    1744 304 

CHAPTER  XV. 

WHITEFIELD    IN    BERMUDAS 318 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

WHITEFIELD    RANGING 329 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

WHITEFIELD    IN    IRELAND 352 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

WHITEFIELD'S    CHARACTERISTIC    SAYINGS,    1734    TO    1745        ....    358 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

WHITEFIELD    REVISITING 377 

CHAPTER  XX. 

WHITEFIELD    IN    LISBON,    1754 395 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

WHITEFIELD    AND    THE    LONDON    MORAVIANS 409 

CHAPTER  XXII. 

WHITEFIELD'S    INFLUENCE    IN    AMERICA.       FIRST    PART 417 

CHAPTER  XXIII. 
whitefield's  public  spirit 422 


CONTENTS.  IX 

CHAPTER  XXIV.  page 

WHITEFIELD'S   INFLUENCE    IN    AMERICA.       SECOND    PART          ....    442 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

WHITEFIELD    AND    THE    BISHOPS 448 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

WHITEFIELD'S    LAST    LABOURS    AT    HOME 458 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

WHITEFIELD    AND    EDMUND-HALL 464 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

WHITEFIELD'S    LAST    VOYAGE 470 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

WHITEFIELD    AND    THE    NOBILITY 479 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

WHITEFIELD'S    LAST    ITINERACY 491 

CHAPTER   XXXI. 

WHITEFIELD'S    FUNERAL 505 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 

WHITEFIELD'S    CHARACTERISTICS 521 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

WHITEFIELD    PREACHING 540 


WHITEFIELD'S  LIFE  AND  TIMES. 


CHAPTER  I. 

WHITEFIELD'S  early    life,  education   and 
ORDINATION. 

"I  was  born  in  Gloucestershire  in  the  month  of  December, 
1714.  My  father  and  mother  kept  the  Hell  Inn."  In  this 
unassuming  manner  Whitefield  commences  a  brief  memoir  of 
himself.  It  will  not,  however,  be  uninteresting  to  add  some 
particulars  respecting  his  family.  His  great-grandfather,  the 
Rev.  Samuel  Whitefield,  born  at  Wantage,  in  Berkshire,  was 
rector  of  North  Ledyard,  in  Wiltshire,  and  afterwards  of 
Rockhampton.  In  the  latter  charge  he  was  succeeded  by  his 
son,  Samuel,  who  died  without  issue.  Two  of  his  daughters 
were  married  to  clergymen.  Andrew,  Whitefield's  grand- 
father, was  a  private  gentleman,  and  lived  retired  upon  his 
estate.  He  had  fourteen  children  ;  Thomas,  the  eldest, 
was  the  father  of  the  Rev.  George  Whitefield.  Mr.  Thomas 
Whitefield  was  bred  to  the  business  of  a  wine  merchant,  in 
Bristol,  but  afterwards  kept  an  inn  in  the  city  of  Gloucester. 
While  in  Bristol  he  married  Miss  Elizabeth  Edwards,  a  lady 
related  to  the  families  of  Blackwell  and  Dinmour,  of  that  city. 
He  had  six  sons,  of  whom  George  was  the  youngest,  and  one 
daughter. 

Concerning  his  father  and  mother,  Whitefield  writes,  "  The 
former  died  when  I  was  two  years  old  ;  the  latter  is  now  alive, 


12  whitefield's   life   and   times. 

(she  died  in  December,  1751,  in  the  71st  year  of  her  age,  and 
has  often  told  me  how  she  endured  fourteen  weeks'  sickness, 
after  she  brought  me  into  the  world ;  but  was  used  to  say, 
even  when  1  was  an  infant,  that  she  expected  more  comfort 
from  me  than  from  any  other  of  her  children.  This,  with 
the  circumstance  of  my  being  born  in  an  inn,  has  been  often 
of  service  to  me,  in  exciting  my  endeavours  to  make  good 
my  mother's  expectations,  and  so  follow  the  example  of  my 
dear  Saviour,  who  was  born  in  a  manger  belonging  to  an  inn." 

This  amiable  solicitude  to  realize  his  mother's  "  expecta- 
tions," is  the  more  worthy  of  notice,  because,  whatever  she 
was  as  a  mother,  she  was  not  distinguished  as  a  Christian. 
This  seems  more  than  implied  in  the  following  lamentation, 
extracted  from  one  of  his  letters  :  "Why  is  my  honoured 
mother  so  solicitous  about  a  few  paltry  things,  that  will 
quickly  perish  1  Why  will  she  not  come  and  see  her  young- 
est son,  who  will  endeavour  to  be  a  Joseph  to  her,  before  she 
dies  ? "  Such  was  his  suspense  in  regard  to  the  spiritual  state 
of  his  parent ;  and  yet  be  gratefully  owns  the  salutary  influ- 
ence of  her  maternal  hopes  upon  his  mind,  and,  while  afar  off* 
on  the  Atlantic,  commemorates  her  tenderness.  "  My  mother 
was  very  careful  of  my  education,  and  always  kept  me,  in 
my  tender  years,  (for  which  I  never  can  sufficiently  thank 
her,)  from  intermeddling  in  the  least  with  the  tavern  busi- 
ness." (This  paragraph  was  written  on  board  the  Elizabeth, 
during  the  voyage  to  Philadelphia.)  Now  these  acknow- 
ledgments were  penned  during  the  heat  of  his  zeal  and  the 
height  of  his  popularity ;  at  a  period  when  recent  converts  are 
prone  to  speak  with  harshness  of  their  unconverted  relatives, 
and  to  sink  the  child  in  the  champion  towards  them.  This 
is  so  common,  and,  to  say  nothing  of  its  cruelty,  so  unwise, 
that  I  could  not  record  this  pleasing  exception,  without  hold- 
ing it  up  to  general  imitation.  "  The  servant  of  the  Lord 
must  not  strive  ;  but  be  gentle  towards  all, — apt  to  teach, 
patient ;  in  meekness  instructing  those  that  oppose  them- 
selves ;  if  God,  peradventure,  will  give  them  repentance  to 
the  acknowledging  of  the  truth." 

Whitefield's  humiliating  recollections  of  his  own  early  and 
inveterate  opposition  to  "  the  truth,"  contributed,  no  doubt,  to 
moderate  his  natural  impatience  towards  others.  The  follow- 
ing is  his  own  narrative  of  that  period. 

"  My  infant  years  must  necessarily  not  be  mentioned  ;  yet 
1  can  remember  such  early  stirrings  of  corruption  in  my  heart, 


whitefield's    life   and    times.         13 

as  abundantly  convince  me  that  I  was  conceived  and  born  in 
sin  ;  that  in  me  dwelleth  no  good  thing  by  nature  ;  and  that, 
if  God  had  not  freely  prevented  me  by  his  grace,  I  must  have' 
been  for  ever  banished  from  his  presence.  I  was  so  brutish 
as  to  hate  instruction  ;  and  used,  purposely,  to  shun  all  op- 
portunities of  receiving  it.  I  soon  gave  pregnant  proofs  of 
an  impudent  temper.  Lying,  filthy  talking,  and  foolish  jest- 
ing I  was  much  addicted  to,  even  when  very  young.  Some- 
times I  used  to  curse,  if  not  swear.  Stealing  from  my  mo- 
ther I  thought  no  theft  at  all,  and  used  to  make  no  scruple  of 
taking  money  out  of  her  pockets  before  she  was  up.  I  have 
frequently  betrayed  my  trust,  and  have  more  than  once  spent 
money  I  took  in  the  house,  in  buying  fruit,  tarts,  &c,  to 
satisfy  my  sensual  appetite.  Numbers  of  Sabbaths  have  I 
broken,  and  generally  used  to  behave  myself  very  irreverently 
in  God's  sanctuary.  Much  money  have  I  spent  in  plays, 
and  in  the  common  amusements  of  the  age.  Cards,  and 
reading  romances,  were  my  heart's  delight.  Often  have  I 
joined  with  others  in  playing  roguish  tricks  ;  but  was  gene- 
rally, if  not  always,  happily  detected  :  for  this  I  have  often 
since,  and  do  now,  bless  and  praise  God." 

This  enumeration  of  youthful  vices  and  follies,  is  certainly 
minute,  and  in   one  sense,  gratuitous ;    but,  when  the  spirit 
and  design  of  the  confessions  are  duly  weighed,  no  man  will 
venture  to  laugh  at  them,  except  those  who  regard  sin  as  a 
"light  matter."     Every  candid  mind  must  be  conscious  of 
seeing  itself  in  young  Whitefield,   "as  in  a  glass;"     and 
every  spiritual  mind  will  not  fail  to  deplore  these  early  exhi- 
bitions of  depravity,  nor  to  mark  this  modern  exemplification 
of  an  ancient  truth,  "  Thou  makest  me  to  possess  the  iniqui- 
ties of  my  youth."— (Job  xiii.,  26.)    Were  these  acknowledg- 
ments written  in  the  spirit,  or  for  the  same  purpose,  as  Rous- 
seau's unblushing  "Confessions,"  I  should  despise  myself,  as 
well  as  insult  the  public,  were  I  inclined  to  transcribe  them. 
Were  they  even  calculated  to  suggest  the  bare  idea  of  uncom- 
mon sins,  I  should  not  have  hesitated  to  merge  the  particulars 
in  some  general  charge  of  corruption  :    but,  besides  carrying 
their  antidote  along  with  them,  in  their  penitential  tone  and 
spirit,  they  are  but  too  common,  however  melancholy.    Bishop 
Lavington,  indeed,  affects  great  horror  and  disgust  at  them, 
and  compares  them  with  the  confessions  of  "  the  wild  and 
fanatical  Theresa,"  in  his  treatise  "On   the   Enthusiasm  of 
Methodists  and  Papists ;  " — a  book,  to  which  his  own  descrip- 


14  WHITEFI  ELD'S      LIFE      AND     TIMES. 

tion  of  Whitefield's  confessions  is  far  more  applicable  ;  "  so 
ludicrous,  filthy,  and  shameless,  as  quite  defiles  paper,  and  is 
shocking  to  decency  and  modesty."  Such  a  "perfect  Jakes" 
of  ribaldry  never  issued  from  the  episcopal  bench  ;  and  yet  it 
found  an  editor  in  the  vicar  of  Manaccan,  in  1820! 

I  shall  have  occasion,  more  than  once,  to  refer  to  both  the 
bishop  and  the  vicar.  In  the  meantime,  I  cannot  but  allow 
"Whitcfield  to  speak  for  himself,  on  the  subject  of  his  early 
life.  "  It  would  be  endless  to  recount  the  sins  and  offences 
of  my  younger  days.  '  They  are  more  in  number  than  the 
hairs  of  my  head.1  My  heart  would  fail  me  at  the  remem- 
brance of  them,  was  I  not  assured  that  my  Redeemer  liveth 
to  make  intercession  for  me  !  However  the  young  man  in  the 
gospel  might  boast,  that  he  had  kept  the  commandments  from 
his  '  youth  up,'  with  shame  and  confusion  of  face  I  confess 
that  I  have  broken  them  all  from  my  youth.  Whatever  fore- 
seen fitness  for  salvation  others  may  talk  of  and  glory  in,  I 
disclaim  any  such  thing  :  if  I  trace  myself  from  my  cradle  to 
my  manhood,  I  can  see  nothing  in  me  but  a  fitness  to  be 
damned.  ' '  J  speak  the  truth  in  Christ:  I  lie  not!'  If  the 
Almighty  had  not  prevented  me  by  his  grace,  and  wrought 
most  powerfully  on  my  soul — quickening  me  by  his  free  Spi- 
rit, when  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins,  I  had  now  either  been 
sitting  in  darkness  and  in  the  shadow  of  death, — or  condemn- 
ed, as  the  due  reward  of  my  crimes,  to  be  for  ever  lifting  up 
my  eyes  in  torments.  But  such  was  the  free  grace  of  God  to 
me,  that  though  corruption  worked  so  strongly  in  my  soul, 
and  produced  such  early  and  bitter  fruits, — yet  I  can  recol- 
lect, very  early,  movings  of  the  blessed  Spirit  upon  my  heart. 
I  had,  early,  some  convictions  of  sin.  Once,  I  remember, 
when  some  persons  (as  they  frequently  did)  made  it  their 
business  to  tease  me,  I  immediately  retired  to  my  room,  and 
kneeling  down,  with  many  tears,  prayed  over  the  118th 
Psalm." 

It  appears  from  the  narrative,  that,  on  this  occasion,  the 
mind  of  young  Whitefield  fastened  chiefly  upon  the  words, 
"  In  the  name  of  the  Lord  will  I  destroy  them."  This,  of 
course,  he  applied  to  his  teasing  enemies,  who  had  "com- 
passed him  about  like  bees:"  a  coincidence  likely  to  be  no- 
ticed by  an  irritated  boy,  of  quick  perceptions.  Even  men 
are  but  too  prone,  when  injured,  to  appropriate  the  Messiah's 
weapons  to  their  own  warfare  ; — as  if  revenge  could  be  sanc- 
tified by  the  use  of  sacred  language.     But  what  is  pitiable 


whitefield's    life    AND    TIMES.  I •") 

in  the  boy,  is  contemptible  in  the  man.  This  happened  when 
Whiteficld  was  only  ten  years  old  ;  but  the  following  hint  will 
account  for  the  facility  with  which  he  turned  to  a  psalm  suited 
to  his  purpose.  "  I  was  always  fond  of  being  a  clergyman, 
and  used  frequently  to  imitate  the  minister's  reading  prayers, 
&c."  Such  being  his  favourite  habit  at  the  time,  he  was 
sure  to  be  familiar  with  the  imprecatory  psalms,  of  which  so 
many  occur  in  the  book  of  Common  Prayer. 

We  have  seen  that  he  was  addicted  to  petty  thefts.  The 
manner  in  which  he  seems  to  have  reconciled  his  conscience 
to  them,  is  not  peculiar  to  boys.  "  Part  of  the  money  I  used 
to  steal  from  my  mother  I  gave  to  the  poor,  and  some  books 
I  privately  took  from  others  (for  which  I  have  since  restored 
fourfold)  I  remember  were  books  of  devotion." 

"  When  I  was  about  twelve,  I  was  placed  at  a  school, 
called  St.  Mary  De  Crypt,  in  Gloucester  ;  the  last  grammar 
school  I  ever  went  to.  Having  a  good  elocution  and  memory, 
I  was  remarked  for  making  speeches  before  the  corporation, 
at  their  annual  visitation.  During  the  time  of  my  being  at 
school,  I  was  very  fond  of  reading  plays,  and  have  kept  from 
school  for  days  together,  to  prepare  myself  for  acting  them. 
My  master,  seeing  how  mine  and  my  schoolfellows'  vein  ran, 
composed  something  of  this  kind  for  us  himself,  and  caused 
me  to  dress  myself  in  girl's  clothes,  (which  I  had  often  done,) 
to  act  a  part  before  the  corporation."  Thus  he  contracted 
that  taste  for  theatrical  amusements,  which  gave  rise  to  the 
well-known  insinuation,  that  he  learned  his  peculiar  style  of 
oratory  upon  the  stage.  This,  however,  is  not  the  fact :  his 
acting  was  confined  to  the  boards  of  St.  Mary  De  Crypt,  and 
to  his  own  chamber.  But  his  fondness  for  this  species  of 
amusement  was  not  left  at  the  school.  When  seventeen 
years  of  age,  he  was  not  weaned  from  this  folly.  Even  while 
at  college  he  says,  "  I  was  not  fully  satisfied  of  the  sin  of 
reading  plays,  until  God,  upon  a  fast  day,  was  pleased  to  con- 
vince me.  Taking  a  play,  to  read  a  passage  out  of  it  to  a 
friend,  God  struck  my  heart  with  such  power,  that  I  was 
obliged  to  lay  it  down  again." 

How  deeply  he  deplored  the  cause  and  consequences  of 
this  habit,  appears  from  the  following  remarks  ;  "I  cannot 
but  observe  here,  with  much  concern  of  mind,  how  this  way 
of  training  up  youth  has  a  natural  tendency  to  debauch  the 
mind,  to  raise  ill  passions,  and  to  stuff  the  memory  with  things 
as  contrary  to  the  gospel  of  Christ,  as  darkness  to  light — hell 


16        whitefield's    life    and    times. 

to  heaven."  This  fatal  "  tendency  "  was  but  too  fully  exem- 
plified  when  at  school.  "  I  got  acquainted  with  such  a  set  of 
debauched,  abandoned,  atheistical  youths,  that  if  God,  by  his 
free,  unmerited,  and  special  grace,  had  not  delivered  me  out 
of  their  hands,  I  should  have  sat  in  the  scorners'  chair,  and 
made  a  mock  at  sin.  By  keeping  company  with  them,  my 
thoughts  of  religion  grew  more  and  more  like  theirs.  I  went 
to  public  service  only  to  make  sport,  and  walk  about.  I  took 
pleasure  in  their  lewd  conversation.  I  began  to  reason  as 
they  did,  and  to  ask,  why  God  had  given  me  passions,  and  not 
permitted  me  to  gratify  them  ?  In  short,  I  soon  made  great 
proficiency  in  the  school  of  the  devil.  I  affected  to  look  rak- 
ish, and  was  in  a  fair  way  of  being  as  infamous  as  the  worst 
of  them."  This,  not  oratory,  was  what  young  Whitefield 
learned  from  plays  and  acting.  He  fell  into  sins,  of  which  he 
says, — "  their  dismal  effects  I  have  felt  and  groaned  under 
ever  sinceP 

Of  course,  this  progress  in  vice  was  gradual.  During  his 
first  two  years  at  school,  he  bought,  and  read  with  much 
attention,  Keris  Manual  fur  Winchester  Scholars  :  a  book 
commended  to  him  by  the  use  made  of  it  by  his  mother  in  her 
afflictions.  He  was  also  a  diligent  scholar,  and  for  some 
time  made  considerable  progress  in  the  Latin  classics.  But 
the  amusements  which  alienated  his  heart  from  virtue,  gradu- 
ally impaired  his  taste  for  education.  "Before  I  was  fifteen, 
having,  as  I  thought,  made  sufficient  progress  in  the  classics, 
and,  at  the  bottom,  longing  to  be  set  at  liberty  from  the  con- 
finement of  a  school,  I  one  day  told  my  mother, — that  since 
her  circumstances  would  not  permit  her  to  give  me  a  Univer- 
sity education,  more  learning,  I  thought,  would  spoil  me  for  a 
tradesman,  and  therefore  I  judged  it  best  not  to  learn  Latin 
any  longer.  She  at  first  refused  to  consent,  but  my  corrup- 
tions soon  got  the  better  of  her  good-nature.  Hereupon  for 
some  time  I  went  to  learn  to  write  only.  But  my  mother's 
circumstances  being  much  on  the  decline  ;  and,  being  tracta- 
ble that  way,  I  began  to  assist  her  occasionally  in  the  public- 
house,  till  at  length  I  put  on  my  blue  apron  and  my  snuffers — 
washed  mops^-cleaned  rooms,  and  in  one  word,  became  pro- 
fessed and  common  drawer  for  nigh  a  year  and  a  half." 

Thus  he  exchanged  the  confinement  of  a  school  for  the  im- 
prisonment of  an  inn  ;  and,  as  might  be  expected  in  such  a 
place,  he  was  twice  or  thrice  intoxicated.  It  does  not  appear, 
however,  that  he  was  addicted  to  drinking.     "  He  who  was 


whitefielo's    life    and    times.  17 

with  David  when  he  was  '■following  the  ewes  big  with  young,1 
was  with  me  here.  For,  notwithstanding  I  was  thus  employ- 
ed in  a  common  inn,  and  had  sometimes  the  care  of  the  whole 
house  upon  my  hands,  yet  /  composed  two  or  three  sermons, 
and  dedicated  one  of  them,  in  particular,  to  my  elder  brother. 
One  time,  I  remember,  I  was  much  pressed  to  self-examina- 
tion, but  found  myself  very  unwilling  to  look  into  my  heart. 
Frequently  I  read  the  Bible,  while  sitting  up  at  night.  Seeing 
the  boys  go  by  to  school,  has  often  cut  me  to  the  heart. 
And  a  dear  youth  would  often  come,  entreating  me,  whilst 
serving  at  the  bar,  to  go  to  Oxford.  My  general  answer 
was, — rl  wish  I  could. 

^  After  I  had  continued  about  a  year  in  servile  employ- 
ment, my  mother  was  obliged  to  leave  the  inn.  My  brother, 
who  had  been  bred  up  for  the  business,  married  ;  whereupon 
all  was  made  over  to  him  ;  and  I  being  accustomed  to  the 
house,  it  was  agreed  that  I  should  continue  there  as  an  assist- 
ant. But  God's  thoughts  were  not  as  our  thoughts.  By  his 
good  providence  it  happened,  that  my  sister-in-law  and  I 
could  by  no  means  agree  ;  and,  at  length,  the  resentment 
grew  to  such  a  height,  that  my  proud  heart  would  scarce  suf- 
fer me  to  speak  to  her  for  three  weeks  together.  But,  not- 
withstanding I  was  much  to  blame,  yet  I  used  to  retire  and 
weep  before  the  Lord,  as  Hagar  when  flying  from  Sarah  : 
little  thinking  that  God,  by  this  means,  was  forcing  me  out 
of  the  public  business,  and  calling  me  from  drawing  wine  for 
drunkards,  to  draw  water  from  the  wells  of  salvation  for  the 
refreshment  of  his  spiritual  Israel.  After  continuing  for  a 
long  time  under  this  burden  of  mind,  I  at  length  resolved 
(thinking  my  absence  would  make  all  things  easy)  to  go  away. 
Accordingly,  by  the  advice  of  my  brother  and  consent  of  my 
mother,  I  went  to  see  my  elder  brother,  then  settled  in 
Bristol." 

During  a  residence  of  two  months  in  Bristol,  Whitefield 
experienced  some  awakenings  of  conscience.  Once,  in  St. 
John's  church,  he  was  so  affected  by  the  sermon,  that  he  re-; 
solved  to  prepare  himself  for  the  sacrament,  and  decided 
against  returning  to  the  inn.  This  latter  resolution  he  com- 
municated by  letter  to  his  mother ;  and  the  former  was  so 
strong,  that,  during  his  stay  in  Bristol,  reading  Thomas  a 
Kempis  was  his  chief  delight.  "  And  I  was  always  impatient 
till  the  bell  rung  to  call  me  to  tread  the  courts  of  the  Lord's 
house.  But  in  the  midst  of  these  illuminations,  something 
2* 


18         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

surely  whispered, — this  would  not  last.  And,  indeed,  it  so 
happened.  For  (oh  that  I  could  write  it  in  tears  of  blood  !) 
when  I  left  Bristol  and  returned  to  Gloucester,  I  changed  my 
devotion  with  my  place.  Alas,  all  my  fervour  went  « > til  I 
had  no  inclination  to  go  to  church,  or  draw  nigh  to  God.  In 
short,  my  heart  was  far  from  him.  However,  1  had  so  much 
religion  left,  as  to  persist  in  my  resolution  not  to  live  in  the 
inn;  and,  therefore,  my  mother  gave  me  leave,  though  she 
had  but  a  little  income,  to  have  a  bed  on  the  ground,  and  live 
at  her  house,  till  Providence  should  point  out  a  place  for  me. 
"  Having  now  as  I  thought,  nothing  to  do,  it  was  a  proper 
season  for  Satan  to  tempt  me.  Much  of  my  time  I  spent  in 
reading  plays,  and  in  sauntering  from  place  to  place.  I  was 
careful  to  adorn  my  body,  but  took  little  pains  to  deck  and 
beautify  my  soul.  Evil  communications  with  my  old  school- 
fellows, soon  corrupted  my  good  manners.  By  seeing  their 
evil  practices,  the  sense  of  the  divine  presence,  I  had  vouch- 
safed unto  me,  insensibly  wore  off  my  mind.  But  God  would 
let  nothing  pluck  me  out  of  his  hands,  though  I  was  continu- 
ally doing  despite  to  the  Spirit  of  grace.  He  even  gave  me 
some  foresight  of  his  providing  for  me.  One  morning  as  I 
was  reading  a  play  to  my  sister,  said  I,  '  Sister,  God  intends 
something  for  me,  which  we  know  not  of.  As  1  have  been 
diligent  in  business,  I  believe  many  would  gladly  have  me  for 
an  apprentice,  but  every  way  seems  to  be  barred  up  ;  so  that 
I  think  God  will  provide  for  me  some  way  or  other,  that  we 
cannot  apprehend.' 

"  Having  thus  lived  with  my  mother  for  some  considerable 
time,  a  young  student,  who  was  once  my  schoolfellow,  and 
then  a  servitor  of  Pembroke  College,  Oxford,  came  to  pay  my 
mother  a  visit.  Amongst  other  conversation,  he  told  her, 
how  he  discharged  all  college  expenses  that  quarter,  and 
saved  a  penny.  Upon  that  my  mother  immediately  cried  out, 
iT/us  will  do  for  my  son!'  Then  turning  to  me  she  said, 
'Will  you  go  to  Oxford,  George  ?  '  I  replied,  'With  all  my 
heart.'  Whereupon,  having  the  same  friends  that  this  young 
student  had,  my  mother,  without  delay,  waited  on  them. 
They  promised  their  interest  to  get  me  a  servitor's  place  in 
the  same  college.  She  then  applied  to  my  old  master,  who 
much  approved  of  my  coming  to  school  again.  In  about  a 
week,  I  went  and  re-entered  myself;  and  being  grown  much 
in  stature,  my  master  addressed  me  thus  :  '  /  see,  George, 
you  are  advanced  in  stature,  but  your  better  part  must  needs 


wiiitefield's    life    and    times.  19 

have  gone  backward.'  This  made  mc  blush.  He  set  me 
something  to  translate  into  Latin,  and  though  I  had  made  no 
application  to  my  classics  for  so  long  a  time,  yet  I  had  but 
one  inconsiderable  fault  in  my  exercises.  This,  I  believe, 
somewhat  surprised  my  master. 

"  Being  re-settled  at  school,  I  spared  no  pains  to  go  for- 
ward in  my  book.  I  learned  much  faster  than  I  did  before." 
But,  whilst  thus  assiduously  preparing  himself  for  college, 
it  does  not  appiar  that  he  began  to  study,  with  an  express 
view  to  the  ministry:  if,  however,  this  was  his  object  at  the 
time,  and  if  he  never,  altogether,  relinquished  the  design, 
which  the  composition  of  sermons  betrayed,  then  the  follow- 
ing events  furnish  a  melancholy  insight,  not  only  into  the 
presumption  of  his  own  heart,  but  into  the  prevailing  maxims 
of  that  age — upon  the  subject  of  the  Christian  ministry. 
These  must  have  been  low  and  lax  in  the^extreme,  if  they 
allowed  such  a  young  man  to  anticipate  office  in  the  church. 
He  was,  indeed,  diligent  in  studying  the  classics,  but  he 
was,  at  the  same  time,  living  in  the  indulgence  of  secret  and 
open  profligacy.  "I  got  acquainted  with  a  set  of  debauched, 
abandoned,  and  atheistical  youths — I  took  pleasure  in  their 
lewd  conversation — I  affected  to  look  rakish,  and  was  in  a 
fair  way  of  being  as  infamous  as  the  worst  of  them."  It 
is  hardly  possible  to  conceive  that,  while  in  this  state,  he 
should  have  contemplated  the  ministry  as  his  object ;  and 
yet  there  is  reason  to  fear  that  the  tone  of  public  feeling,  at 
the  time,  was  such  as  to  impose  little  check  upon  the  morals 
of  ministerial  candidates.  Even  now,  holy  character  is  not 
indispensable,  either  in  college  halls,  or  at  national  altars  ; 
and  then,  as  we  shall  see,  it  was  still  less  so.  Certain  it  is, 
that  Whitefield's  reformation  was  neither  suggested  nor  en- 
forced, in  the  first  instance,  by  any  thing  moral  or  religious 
which  the  general  practice  of  the  church  insisted  upon. 
Whatever  the  letter  of  her  requirements  calls  for  in  candi- 
dates, the  spirit  of  them  was,  in  a  great  measure,  evaporated 
in  that  age. 

I  have  already  said  that  Whitefield  is  silent  upon  the 
subject  of  his  express  design  in  preparing  himself  for  the 
University  ;  but,  there  being  no  evidence  that  he  ever  con- 
templated any  other  profession  than  the  ministerial,  and  it 
being  the  only  one  for  which  he  had  evinced  the  shadow  of 
a  partiality,  or  was  likely  to  succeed  in,  under  his  circum- 
stances,— we  must  conclude,  that  he  had  it  in  view  from  the 


20          whitefield's    life    and    times. 

beginning.  Such,  in  all  probability,  being  the  fact,  it  might 
be  expected,  that  the  bare  idea  of  becoming  a  minister  would, 
of  itself,  have  imposed  a  restraint  upon  his  passions  ; — but 
neither  its  own  solemnity,  nor  the  tone  of  ecclesiastical  feel- 
ing at  the  time,  had  any  moral  influence  upon  him.  "  I 
\vt  nt,"  he  says,  "to  public  service  only  to  make  sport  and  walk 
about."  At  this  time  he  was  nearly  seventeen  years  of  age  : 
a  period  of  life  when  he  must  have  been  capable  of  under- 
standing what  is  expected  from  a  clergyftan.  And  yet, 
nothing  which  he  saw  or  heard  on  this  subject  seems  to  have 
suggested  the  necessity  of  reformation.  "  God  stopped  me 
when  running  on  in  a  full  career  of  vice.  For,  just  as  I 
was  upon  the  brink  of  ruin,  lie  gave  me  such  a  distaste  of 
their  (his  companions')  principles  and  practices,  that  I  dis? 
covered  them  to  my  master,  who  soon  put  a  stop  to  their 
proceedings."     v1 

I  have  been  the  more  minute  in  recording  this  event,  be- 
cause without  clear  and  correct  ideas  of  the  prevailing  tone 
of  public  and  ecclesiastical  feeling  at  the  time,  no  fair  estimate 
can  be  formed  of  the  spirit  in  which  methodism  originated  in 
Oxford. 

The  breaking  up  of  that  vicious  combination  which  existed 
in  the  school  of  St.  Mary  de  Crypt,  produced  an  important 
change  in  the  morals  of  "Whitefield.  "  Being  thus  delivered 
out  of  the  snare  of  the  devil,  I  began  to  be  more  and  more 
serious,  and  felt  God,  at  different  times,  working  powerfully 
and  convincingly  upon  my  soul."  This  improvement  of 
character  was  so  evident  that  his  friends  did  not  fail  to  wel- 
come it.  It  was,  however,  but  external  at  first.  "  One 
day,  as  I  was  coming  down  stairs,  and  overheard  my  friends 
speaking  well  of  me,  God  deeply  convicted  me  of  hypoc- 
risy." This  timely  discovery  fixed  his  attention  upon  the 
state  of  his  heart,  and  gave  to  his  reformation  a  more  religious 
character. 

"  Being  now  near  the  seventeenth  year  of  my  age,  I  was 
resolved  to  prepare  myself  for  the  holy  sacrament,  which  I 
received  on  Christmas  day.  I  began  now  to  be  more  watch- 
ful over  my  thoughts,  words,  and  actions.  I  kept  the  following 
Lent,  fasting  Wednesday  and  Friday,  thirty-six  hours  together. 
My  evenings,  when  I  had  done  waiting  upon  my  mother, 
were  generally  spent  in  acts  of  devotion,  reading  Drelincourt 
'  upon  death,'  and  other  practical  books,  and  I  constantly 
went  to  public  worship  twice  a  day.    Being  now  upper  boy,  I 


WHITEFIELDS      LIFE     AND      TIMES.  21 

made  some  reformation  amongst  my  schoolfellows.  I  was 
very  diligent  in  reading  and  learning  the  classics,  and  in 
studying  my  Greek  Testament ;  hut  I  was  not  yet  convinced 
of  the  absolute  unlawfulness  of  playing  at  cards,  and  of  read- 
ing and  seeing  plays  ;  though  I  began  to  have  some  scruples 
about  it.  Near  this  time,  1  dreamed  that  I  was  to  see  God 
on  Mount  Sinai ;  but  was  afraid  to  meet  him.  This  made  a 
great  impression  upon  me,  and  a  gentlewoman  to  whom  I  told 
it,  said,  "  George,  this  is  a  call  from  God." 

Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  dream,  or  of  the  interpre- 
tation, such  hints  have  more  frequently  determined  the 
character  and  pursuits  of  young  men,  than  more  rational 
means.  There  is,  to  a  susceptible  mind,  a  peculiar  fascina- 
tion in  these  mysterious  oracles  ;  and,  after  all  that  has  been 
said  of  their  folly  and  fallacy,  they  continue  to  govern  the 
choice  of  many,  and  are  still  followed  as  leading  stars — whilst 
sober  advice  is  regarded  as  a  dull  finger-post  on  the  road  of 
life.  In  the  present  instance  the  imaginary  omens  were  not 
useless.  "  I  grew  more  serious  after  my  dream,  but  yet 
hypocrisy  crept  into  every  action.  As  once  I  affected  to  look 
more  rakish,  I  now  strove  to  look  more  grave,  than  I  really 
was.  However,  an  uncommon  concern  and  alteration  was 
visible  in  my  behaviour,  and  I  often  used  to  find  fault  with 
the  lightness  of  others.  One  night  as  I  was  going  on  an 
errand  for  my  mother,  an  unaccountable  but  very  strong 
impression  was  made  upon  my  heart,  that  I  should  preach 
quickly.  When  I  came  home,  I  innocently  told  my  mother 
what  had  befallen  me  ;  but  she  (like  Joseph's  parents  when 
he  told  them  his  dream)  turned  short  upon  me,  crying  out, 
*  What  does  the  boy  mean  ?  Prithee  hold  thy  tongue  !  ' 

"  For  a  twelvemonth,  I  went  on  in  a  round  of  duties,  re- 
ceiving the  sacrament  monthly,  fasting  frequently,  attending 
constantly  on  public  worship,  and  praying,  often  more  than 
twice  a  day,  in  private.  One  of  my  brothers  used  to  tell  me, 
he  feared  this  would  not  hold  long,  and  that  I  should  forget 
all  when  I  went  to  Oxford.  This  caution  did  me  much  ser- 
vice ;  for  it  set  me  on  praying  for  perseverance.  Being  now 
near  eighteen  years  old,  it  was  judged  proper  for  me  to  go  to 
the  University.  God  had  sweetly  prepared  my  way.  The 
friends  before  applied  to,  recommended  me  to  the  master  of 
Pembroke  College.  Another  friend  took  up  ten  pounds  upon 
bond  (which  I  have  since  repaid)  to  defray  the  expense  of 


22  W  II  I  T  E  F  I  E  L  D  '  S      LIFE      AND     TIMES. 

entering  ;  and  the  master,  contrary  to  all  expectation,  admit- 
ted me  servitor  immediately." 

When  Whitefield  entered  the  University  of  Oxford,  that 
seat  of  learning  had  not  shaken  off  the  moral  lethargy  which 
followed  the  ejectment  of  the  2000  nonconformists.  The 
Bartholomew  Bushel,  under  which  those  burning  and  shining 
lights  were  placed,  proved  an  extinguisher  to  the  zeal  of  the 
luminaries  that  struck  into  the  orbit  of  uniformity.  Those  of 
them  who  retained  their  light  lost  their  heat.  During  the 
seventy  years  which  had  elapsed  since  the  expulsion  of  the 
nonconformists,  the  Isis  had  been  changing  into  a  Dead  sea, 
upon  the  banks  of  which  the  tree  of  life  shrivelled  into  a  tree 
of  mere  human  knowledge  ;  and,  in  the  adjacent  halls,  the 
doctrines  of  the  Reformation  were  superseded,  in  a  great  mea- 
sure, by  high  church  principles.  Even  irreligion  and  infi- 
delity were  so  prevalent  at  both  Universities,  that  when  the 
statue  of  the  age  was  chiselled  by  that  moral  Phidias,  But- 
ler, they  seem  to  have  furnished  the  model : — 

"  It  is  come,  I  know  not  how,  to  be  taken  for  granted  by 
many  persons,  that  Christianity  is  not  so  much  as  a  subject 
of  inquiry,  but  that  it  is  now  at  length  discovered  to  be  ficti- 
tious ;  and,  accordingly,  they  treat  it  as  if,  in  the  present  age, 
this  were  an  agreed  point  among  all  people  of  discernment ; 
and  nothing  remained  but  to  set  it  up  as  a  principal  subject  of 
mirth  and  ridicule,  as  it  were  by  way  of  reprisals  for  its  having 
so  long  interrupted  the  pleasures  of  the  world."  Bishop 
Butler's  Analogy. 

So  much  was  this  the  character  of  the  after-dinner  conver- 
sations at  Oxford,  that  the  recent  change  from  gross  ribaldry 
to  decorum,  used  to  be  appealed  to  with  triumph  by  Cole- 
ridge, and  other  modern  advocates  :  a  fact,  which  betrays  the 
former  state  of  things.  Even  the  defences  of  Christianity, 
which  issued  from  the  University  press  during  that  age,  betray 
the  fatal  secret,  that  they  were  as  much  wanted  for  the 
gownsmen,  as  for  the  public.  Bishop  Butler  says  of  this 
state  of  things,  "  It  is  come,  I  know  not  how ; "  but  he  might 
have  known  soon,  if  he  had  studied  the  "  analogy"  between 
it  and  the  discipline  of  the  colleges.  What  else  could  be 
expected  from  a  nation  or  a  university,  after  seeing  the 
brightest  ornaments  of  the  church  sacrificed  to  rites  and  ce- 
remonies ;  after  seeing  talents,  learning,  and  piety,  reckoned 
♦'  as  the  small  dust  in  the  balance,"  when  weighed  against 
robes  and   forms  1     After  witnessing  diocesan  and  state  pa- 


whitefield's    life    and    times.  23 

tronage  withdrawn,  and  exchanged  for  penalties  on  such 
grounds,  it  was  not  likely  that  Christianity  would  be  better 
treated  by  the  nation  than  its  faithful  ministers  were  by  thy 
government.  From  that  time  down  to  the  year  1734,  when 
Whitefield  entered  at  Pembroke  College,  the  motto  of  the 
University  might  have  been,  "  We  care  less  for  character 
than  for  conformity." 

"  A  dissolution  of  all  bonds  ensued  ; 

The  curbs  invented  for   the  mulish  mouth 

Of  headstrong  youth  were  broken  ;  bolts  and  bars 

Grew  rusty  by  disuse;  and  massy  gates 

Forgot  their  office,  opening  with  a  touch: 

Till  gowns  at  length  are  found  mere  masquerade; 

The  tasselled  cap  and  the  spruce  band,  a  jest, 

A  mockery  of  the  world  !  "  Cowper. 

Such  Whitefield  found  the  general  character  of  the  Oxford 
students  to  be.  "  I  was  quickly  solicited  to  join  in  their  ex- 
cess of  riot,  by  several  who  lay  in  the  same  room.  Once  in 
particular,  it  being  cold,  my  limbs  were  so  benumbed  by  sit- 
ting alone  in  my  study,  because  I  would  not  go  out  amongst 
them,  that  I  could  scarce  sleep  all  night.  I  had  no  sooner  re- 
ceived the  sacrament  publicly  on  a  week  day,  at  St.  Mary's, 
but  I  was  set  up  as  a  mark  for  all  the  polite  students,  that 
knew  me,  to  shoot  at ;  for  though  there  is  a  sacrament  at  the 
beginning  of  every  term,  at  which  all,  especially  the  seniors, 
are  by  statute  obliged  to  be  present ;  yet,  so  dreadfully  has 
that  once  faithful  city  played  the  harlot,  that  very  few  masters, 
no  graduates,  (but  the  methodists,)  attended  upon  it." 

I  quote  the  latter  part  of  this  extract,  not  to  deplore  the 
falling  off  in  attendance,  as  Whitefield  does  :  the  sacrament 
was 

"More  honoured  in  the  breach,  than  the  observance  " 

of  the  statute,  by  such  men  ;  but  the  breach  illustrates  both 
the  state  of  discipline  and  of  religion  at  the  time.  There 
were,  however,  some  lilies  among  the  rank  thorns  of  Oxford. 
Of  these  solitary  exceptions,  the  Wesleys  and  their  associ- 
ates, were  the  most  exemplary.  This  little  band  had  then 
existed  during  five  years,  and  were  called,  in  derision,  meth- 
odists.  Their  regular  habits  and  rigid  virtue,  were  proverbial 
throughout  the  University  and  the  city.  They  were  the 
friends  of  the  poor  and  the  patrons  of  the  serious.    But,  with 


24  whitefield's    life    and    times. 

all  these  excellences  of  character,  the  Wesleys  united  much 
enthusiasm,  and  an  almost  incredible  degree  of  ignorance 
in  regard  to  the  gospel.  Their  avowed  object,  in  all  their 
voluntary  privations  and  zealous  efforts,  was,  to  save  their 
souls,  and  to  live  wholly  to  the  glory  of  God  :  a  noble  enter- 
prise, certainly;  but  undertaken  by  them  from  erroneous 
motives,  and  upon  wrong  principles.  For  any  relief  which 
their  consciences  seem  to  have  obtained  from  the  death  of 
the  Son  of  God,  and  the  free  salvation  proclaimed  in  virtue 
of  it,  the  gospel  might  have  been  altogether  untrue  or  un- 
known ;  so  grossly  ignorant  were  the  whole  band  at  one  time. 
And  yet,  at  this  period,  Mr.  John  Wesley  was  a  fellow  of 
Lincoln  College,  and  teaching  others.  Nine  years  before,  he 
had  been  ordained  by  Dr.  Potter,  who  was  afterwards  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury. 

This  fact  reveals  one  of  two  things  :  either,  that  the  young 
men  were  very  inattentive  to  the  theological  lectures  delivered 
from  the  divinity  chair,  or  that  the  lectures  themselves  were 
very  unscriptural.  Perhaps  the  fault  lay  partly  on  both 
sides  ;  for  it  is  highly  probable,  that  such  young  men  would 
underrate  the  cold,  systematic  lectures  of  a  professor.  I  am 
led  to  form  this  opinion,  because  the  celebrated  mystic,  Wil- 
Ham  Law,  was,  at  the  time,  their  oracle.  They  imitated  his 
ascetic  habits,  and  imbibed  his  spirit  of  quietism.  He  had 
said  to  John  Wesley,  who  was  likely  to  circulate  the  notion, 
"  You  would  have  a  philosophical  religion,  but  there  can  be  no 
such  thing.  Religion  is  the  most  simple  thing  :  it  is  only, 
We  love  Him  because  he  first  loved  us."  Such  indefinite 
maxims  assimilated,  but  too  readily,  with  the  mystic  temper 
of  the  persons  they  were  addressed  to  ;  and  silent  contempla- 
tion, in  solitude,  being  the  very  spirit  of  Law's  system,  Wes- 
ley and  his  associates  were  not  likely  to  relish  argumentative 
theology,  however  excellent. 

The  following  account  of  their  devotional  habits  will  illus- 
trate the  true  character  of  their  religious  sentiments,  at  the 
time  of  Whitefield's  arrival  from  Gloucester.  "  They  inter- 
rogate themselves  whether  they  have  been  simple  and  recol- 
lected ;  whether  they  have  prayed  with  fervour,  Monday, 
Wednesday,  Friday,  and  on  Saturday  noon  ;  if  they  have  used 
a  collect  at  nine,  twelve,  and  three  o'clock  ;  duly  meditated 
on  Sunday,  from  three  to  four,  on  Thomas  a  Kempis;  or 
mused  on  Wednesday  and  Friday,  from  twelve  to  one,  on  the 


whitefield's  life  and  times.  25 

Passion."  Thus  were  they  monks  in  almost  every  thing  ex- 
cept the  name. 

It  was  necessary  to  delineate  thus  minutely  the  original 
character  of  methodism,  that  its  natural  influence  upon  the 
susceptible  mind  of  Whitefield  may  be  anticipated.  Suffer- 
ing and  smarting,  as  he  did,  from  vicious  indulgence,  and 
now  seriously  bent  upon  the  ministry,  he  was  not  likely  to 
associate  with  the  profligate  or  the  profane  in  the  University. 
He  did  not.  "God  gave  me  grace  to  withstand,  when  they 
solicited  me  to  join  in  their  excess  of  riot.  When  they  per- 
ceived they  could  not  prevail,  they  let  me  alone,  as  a  singular, 
odd  fellow."  He  did  not,  however,  join  himself  to  the  me. 
thodists  at  once.  "The  young  men,  so  called,  were  then 
much  talked  of  at  Oxford.  I  heard  of  and  loved  them  before 
I  came  to  the  University  ;  and  so  strenuously  defended  them, 
when  I  heard  them  reviled  by  the  students,  that  they  began  to 
think  that  I  also,  in  time,  should  be  one  of  them.  For  above 
a  twelvemonth  my  soul  longed  to  be  acquainted  with  some  of 
them,  and  I  was  strongly  pressed  to  follow  their  good  exam- 
ple, when  I  saw  them  go  through  a  ridiculing  crowd  to  receive 
the  holy  eucharist  at  St.  Mary's." 

How  much  he  was  prepared  to  enter  into  their  peculiar 
spirit  when  he  did  join  them,  will  also  appear  from  the  follow- 
ing hint.  "  Before  I  went  to  the  University,  I  met  with  Mr. 
Laids  '  Serious  Call  to  Devout  Life,'  but  had  not  money  to 
purchase  it.  Soon  after  my  coming  up  to  the  University, 
seeing  a  small  edition  of  it  in  a  friend's  hand,  I  soon  procured 
it.  God  worked  powerfully  upon  my  soul  by  that  excellent 
treatise."  Thus,  like  two  drops  of  water,  they  were  quite 
prepared  to  unite  whenever  they  came  in  contact.  And  this 
soon  occurred.  "  It  happened  that  a  poor  woman,  in  one  of 
the  workhouses,  had  attempted  to  cut  her  throat,  but  was 
happily  prevented.  Upon  hearing  of  this,  and  knowing  that 
the  two  Mr.  Wesleys  were  ready  to  every  good  work,  I  sent 
a  poor  aged  apple-woman  of  ourcollege  to  inform  Mr.  Charles 
Wesley  of  it;  charging  her  not  to  discover  who  sent  her. 
She  went ;  but,  contrary  to  my  orders,  told  my  name.  He 
having  heard  of  my  coming  to  the  castle,  and  to  a  parish 
church  sacrament,  and  having  met  me  frequently  walking  by 
myself,  followed  the  woman  when  she  was  gone  away,  and 
sent  an  invitation  to  me  by  her,  to  come  to  breakfast  with  him 
the  next  morning.  I  thankfully  embraced  the  opportunity. 
My  soul  at  that  time  was  athirst  for  some  spiritual  friends  to 
3 


26  whitefield's    life    and    TIMES. 

lift  up  my  hands  when  hung  down,  and  to  strengthen  my  fee* 
ble  knees.  He  soon  discovered  it,  and,  like  a  wise  winner  of 
souls,  made  all  his  discourses  tend  that  way.  And  when  he 
put  into  my  hands  Professor  Frank's  'Treatise  against  the 
Fear  of  Man,'  and  '  The  Country  Parson's  Advice  to  his 
Parishioners,'  I  took  my  leave. 

"  In  a  short  time  he  let  me  have  another  book,  entitled — 
*  The  Life  of  God  in  the  Soul  of  Man  ;'  and  though  I  had 
fasted,  watched,  and  prayed,  and  received  the  sacrament  so 
long,  yet  I  never  knew  what  true  religion  was,  till  God  sent 
me  that  excellent  treatise,  by  the  hands  of  my  never-to-be- 
forgotten  friend.  At  my  first  reading  it,  I  wondered  what  the 
author  meant  by  saying,  'That  some  falsely  placed  religion  in 
going  to  church,  doing  hurt  to  no  one,  being  constant  in  the  du- 
ties of  the  closet,  and  now  and  then  reaching  out  their  hands 
to  give  alms  to  their  poor  neighbours.'  Alas  !  thought  I,  if 
this  be  not  religion,  what  is  1  God  soon  showed  me  ;  for  in 
reading  a  few  lines  further,  '  that  true  religion  was  a  union  of 
the  soul  with  God,  and  Christ  formed  within  ms,'  a  ray  of  di- 
vine light  was  instantaneously  darted  in  upon  my  soul,  and 
from  that  moment,  but  not  till  then,  did  I  know  that  I  must  be 
a  new  creature." 

This  was  an  important  era  in  Whitefield's  experience;  and, 
if  he  had  been  left  to  the  guidance  of  the  book  that  suggested 
the  necessity  of  regeneration,  his  feet  might  soon  have  stood 
upon  the  Rock  of  ages.  He  was  now  in  the  right  track  to 
Calvary;  and,  with  his  anxiety  "to  be  born  again,"  would 
have  held  on,  until  he  had  discovered  that,  "  to  as  many  as 
received  Him,  Christ  gave  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God, 
even  to  them  that  believe  on  his  name."  But,  unhappily, 
Whitefield  was  not  left  to  follow  out  his  own  convictions  : 
Charles  Wesley,  "ignorant  of  God's  righteousness,  and  going 
about  to  establish  his  own  righteousness,"  interfered  with  the 
young  convert,  and  inoculated  him  with  the  virus  of  legality 
and  quietism.  Before  Whitefield  had  time  to  acquire  from 
the  gospel  the  relief  which  his  heavy-laden  conscience  longed 
for,  he  was  introduced  to  the  methodists  ;  from  kind  motives 
on  the  part  of  his  zealous  friend,  no  doubt ;  but  unhappily 
for  himself.  The  intimacy  well  nigh  proved  fatal  to  his  life, 
and  to  his  reason. 

"  From  time  to  time  Mr.  Wesley  permitted  me  to  come 
unto  him,  and  instructed  me  as  I  was  able  to  bear  it.  By 
decrees  he  introduced  me  to  the  rest  of  his  Christian  brethren. 


whitefield's  life   and   times.  27 

I  now  began,  like  them,  to  live  by  rule,  and  to  pick  up  every 
fragment  of  my  time,  that  not  a  moment  of  it  might  be  lost. 
Like  them,  having  no  weekly  sacrament  (although  the  Ru- 
brick  required  it)  at  our  own  college,  I  received  every  Sunday 
at  Christ-Church.  I  joined  with  them  in  keeping  the  stations, 
by  fasting  Wednesdays  and  Fridays,  and  left  no  means  un- 
used which  I  thought  would  lead  me  nearer  to  Jesus  Christ. 
By  degrees  I  began  to  leave  off*  eating  fruits  and  such  like, 
and  gave  the  money  I  usually  spent  in  that  way  to  the  poor. 
Afterward  I  always  chose  the  worst  sort  of  food,  though  my 
place  furnished  me  with  variety.  My  apparel  was  mean.  I 
thought  it  unbecoming  a  penitent  to  have  his  hair  powdered. 
I  wore  woollen  gloves,  a  patched  gown,  and  dirty  shoes;  and 
though  I  was  then  convinced  that  the  kingdom  of  God  did 
not  consist  in  meats  and  drinks,  yet  I  resolutely  persisted  in 
these  voluntary  acts  of  self-denial,  because  I  found  them 
great  promoters  of  the  spiritual  life.  It  was  now  suggested 
to  me,  that  Jesus  Christ  was  among  the  wild  beasts  when  he 
was  tempted,  and  that  I  ought  to  follow  his  example  ;  and 
being  willing,  as  I  thought,  to  imitate  Jesus  Christ,  after  sup- 
per I  went  into  Christ-Church  walk,  near  our  college,  and 
continued  in  silent  prayer  nearly  two  hours ;  sometimes  lying 
flat  on  my  face,  sometimes  kneeling  upon  my  knees.  The 
night  being  stormy  gave  me  awful  thoughts  of  the  day  of  judg- 
ment. The  next  night  1  repeated  the  same  exercise  at  the  same 
place.  Soon  after  this,  the  holy  season  of  Lent  came  on,  which 
our  friends  kept  very  strictly  ;  eating  no  flesh  during  the  six 
weeks,  except  on  Saturdays  and  Sundays.  I  abstained  fre- 
quently on  Saturdays  also,  and  ate  nothing  on  the  other  days 
(except  Sunday)  but  sage-tea  without  sugar,  and  coarse  bread. 
I  constantly  walked  out  in  the  cold  mornings,  till  part  of  one 
of  my  hands  was  quite  black.  This,  with  my  continued  ab- 
stinence, and  inward  conflicts,  at  Length  so  emaciated  my 
body,  that,  at  Passion  week,  finding  I  could  scarce  creep  up 
stairs,  I  was  obliged  to  inform  my  kind  tutor  of  my  condition, 
who  immediately  sent  for  a  physician  to  me." 

While  it  is  impossible  to  read  this  catalogue  of  extravagan- 
ces, without  pitying  the  wretched  sufferer  and  his  superstitious 
friends,  it  is  equally  impossible  to  refrain  from  smiling  and 
frowning,  alternately,  at  the  gross  absurdities  of  quietism,  and 
the  foolish  requirements  of  the  Rubrick.  Many  of  both  are 
equal  outrages  upon  common  sense ;  to  say  nothing  of  their 
being  unscriptural.  But  these  were  not  the  only  baneful 
effects  of  Whitefield's  intimacy  with  the  methodists.     "  The 


28  whitefield's   life   and  times. 

course  of  my  studies  I  soon  entirely  changed :  whereas,  be- 
fore, I  was  busied  in  studying  the  dry  sciences,  and  books 
that  went  no  farther  than  the  surface,  I  now  resolved  to  read 
only  such  as  entered  into  the  heart  of  religion.  Meeting 
with  Castanza's  'Spiritual  Combat,'  in  which  he  says,  that 
'he  that  is  employed  in  mortifying  his  will,  was  as  well  em- 
ployed as  though  he  was  converting  the  Indians,'  Satan  so 
imposed  upon  my  understanding,  that  he  persuaded  me  to  shut 
myself  up  in  my  study,  till  I  could  do  good  with  a  single  eye; 
lest,  in  endeavouring  to  save  others,  I  should,  at  last,  by  pride 
and  self-complacence,  lose  myself.  When  Castanza  advised 
to  talk  but  little,  Satan  said,  I  must  not  talk  at  all ;  so  that  I, 
who  used  to  be  the  most  forward  in  exhorting  my  compan- 
ions, have  sat  whole  nights  without  speaking  at  all.  Again, 
when  Castanza  advised  to  endeavour  after  a  silent  recollection, 
and  waiting  upon  God,  Satan  told  me,  I  must  leave  all  forms, 
and  not  use  my  voice  in  prayer  at  all."  These  habits  soon 
affected  his  college  exercises  also.  "Whenever  I  endeavour- 
ed to  compose  my  theme,  I  had  no  power  to  write  a  word, 
nor  so  much  as  to  tell  my  Christian  friends  of  my  inability  to 
do  it.  All  power  of  meditating,  or  even  thinking,  was  taken 
from  me.  My  memory  quite  failed  me  ;  and  I  could  fancy 
myself  to  be  like  nothing  so  much  as  a  man  locked  up  in 
iron  armour." 

Having  twice  neglected  to  produce  the  weekly  theme,  his 
tutor  called  him  into  the  common  room,  after  fining  him,  and 
kindly  inquired  whether  any  calamity  had  befallen  him,  or 
what  was  the  reason  of  his  neglect?  "I  burst  into  tears,  and 
assured  him,  that  it  was  not  out  of  contempt  of  authority,  but 
that  I  could  not  act  otherwise.  Then,  at  length,  he  said,  he 
believed  I  could  not ;  and,  when  he  left  me,  told  a  friend  (as 
he  very  well  might)  that  he  took  me  to  be  really  mad.  This 
friend,  hearing  what  had  happened  from  my  tutor,  came  to 
me,  urging  the  command  in  Scripture,  'to  be  subject  to  the 
higher  powers.'  I  answered,  Yes;  but  I  had  a  new  revela- 
tion.    Lord,  what  is  man  !  " 

During  the  progress  of  this  direful  malady,  the  Wesleys 
were  not  wanting,  either  in  attention  or  tenderness,  to  their 
unhappy  friend  ;  and  if,  like  Job's  friends,  they  were  misera- 
ble comforters,  still,  their  motives  claim  the  highest  respect. 
They  would  have  brought  him  "water  from  the  well  of  Beth- 
lehem "  at  any  expense  ;  but,  like  Hagar  weeping  over  her 
fainting  child  in  the  wilderness,  their  own  eyes  were  not  then 


whitefield's   life   and  times.  29 

opened  to  see  that  well.     It  is  only  bare  justice  to  make  this 
acknowledgment.     I  have  exposed  and  censured,  freely,  the 
ignorance,   mysticism,  and  superstition  of  the  Wesleys  ;    I 
have  deplored,  in  strong  terms,  the  intimacy  which  Whitefield 
formed  with  the  Oxford  methodists  ;  and  traced  to  their  max- 
ims and  habits,  as  the  direct  cause,  a  great  part  of  his  extra- 
vagances ;  but,  in  all  this,  I  have  been  actuated  by  no  preju- 
dice against  his  friends,  nor  do  my  remarks  upon  methodism 
embrace  the  system  as  it  now  exists :  they  are,  hitherto,  en- 
tirely confined  to  its  character  at  Oxford.     Then,  its  influence, 
according  to  Mr.  John  Wesley's  own  acknowledgment,  was 
that  "of  leading  him  into  the  desert  to  be  tempted  and  hum- 
bled, and  shown  what  was  in  his  heart."     Even  Dr.  Coke 
says  of  him,  it  is  certain  that  he  was  then  very  little  acquaint- 
ed with  true  experimental  religion.    This  is  very  obvious  from 
the  advice  which  he  gave  to  Whitefield,  when  his  case  was  so 
pitiable,  that  Charles  Wesley  was  afraid  to  prescribe.     "  He 
advised  me  to  resume  all  my  externals,  though  not  to  depend 
on  them  in  the  least."     Now,  however  wise  the  latter  clause 
of  this  rule  may  be,  the  former  part  is  pitiable  :  "all"  White- 
field's  "  externals  "  included  many  of  the  very  habits  which 
had  unhinged  his  mind,  and  ruined  his  health.     He  did,  how- 
ever, "resume"  them,  and  the  result  was,  "a  fit  of  sickness 
which  continued  during  seven  weeks."     His  tutor  seems  to 
have  been  the   only  person  about  him   who   acted  wisely. 
Charles  Wesley  referred  him  to  chapters  in  A  Kempis.  John, 
to  the  maxims  of  quietism.     "  My  tutor  lent  me  books,  gave 
me  money,  visited  me,  and  furnished  me  with  a  physician  : 
in  short,  he  behaved  in  all  respects  like  a  father." 

The  reader  must  not  suppose,  however,  that  Whitefield 
himself  arraigns  the  imprudence  of  his  young  friends  ;  or  that 
he  contrasts,  as  I  have  ventured  to  do,  their  measures  with 
those  of  his  tutor  :  no,  indeed  ;  he  records  both  with  equal 
gratitude,  and  uniformly  pronounces  benedictions  upon  the 
authors.  Even  when  he  became  the  opponent  of  John  Wes- 
ley, on  the  subject  of  "free  grace,"  and  might  have  pointed 
his  arguments  by  an  appeal  to  the  early  errors  of  his  rival,  he 
does  not  so  much  as  hint  at  them,  but  prefaces  his  letter  by 
declaring,  "  Was  nature  to  speak,  1  had  rather  die  than 
write  against  you.''  I,  however,  have  no  such  scruples  on 
this  head  :  but,  while  I  shall  avoid  doing  injustice  to  the 
Wesleys,  I  shall  canvass,  as  freely,  their  influence  upon 
Whitefield,  as  that  of  any  other  person's  with  whom  he  came 

3* 


30  whitefield's  life   and  times. 

in  contact.  The  formation  of  his  character  must  be  shown, 
without  regard  to  the  light  in  which  it  may  exhibit  the  forces 
that  determined  it. 

The  seven  weeks  of  sickness,  already  mentioned,  White- 
field  calls  "  a  glorious  visitation."  "The  blessed  Spirit  was 
all  this  time  purifying  my  soul.  All  my  former  gross,  noto- 
rious, and  even  my  heart  sins,  also,  were  now  set  home  upon 
me  ;  of  which  I  wrote  down  some  remembrances  immedi- 
ately, and  confessed  them  before  God  morning  and  evening." 
This  exercise,  although  more  humiliating  and  mortifying  than 
even  his  fasts  and  austerities,  was  infinitely  more  useful. 
While  they  led  him  only  to  Castanza  and  A  Kempis — this 
led  him  direct  to  the  gospel,  and  to  the  throne  of  grace.  Un- 
able to  sustain  such  views  of  the  evil  of  sin,  and  having  failed, 
in  all  his  former  efforts,  to  remove  a  sense  of  guilt,  by  a 
series  of  observances,  he  was  now  shut  up  to  the  faith. 
"  Though  weak,  I  often  spent  two  hours  in  my  evening  re- 
tirements, and  prayed  over  my  Greek  Testament,  and  Bishop 
Hall's  most  excellent  '  Contemplations.'  "  While  thus  en- 
gaged in  searching  the  Scriptures,  he  discovered  the  true 
grounds  of  a  sinner's  hope  and  justification.  The  testimony 
of  God  concerning  his  Son,  became  "  power  unto  salvation." 
"I  found  and  felt,  in  myself,  that  I  was  delivered  from  the 
burden  that  had  so  heavily  oppressed  me.  The  spirit  of 
mourning  was  taken  from  me,  and  I  knew  what  it  was  truly 
to  rejoice  in  God  my  Saviour.  For  some  time,  I  could  not 
avoid  singing  psalms,  wherever  I  was  ;  but  my  joy  became 
gradually  more  settled.  Thus  were  the  days  of  my  mourn- 
ing ended  ;  after  a  long  night  of  desertion  and  temptation, 
the  star,  which  I  had  seen  at  a  distance  before,  began  to  ap- 
pear again  . — the  day-star  arose  in  my  heart." 

Such  is  the  history  of  Whitefield's  conversion ;  in  this 
manner  was  he  rescued  from  the  malignant  snares  of  the 
devil,  and  from  the  blind  guidance  of  friends,  who  were, 
unconsciously,  strengthening  these  snares,  and,  unintention- 
ally, enabling  the  arch-deceiver  to  keep  this  brand  in  the 
burning.  This,  I  am  aware,  is  strong  language ;  and,  by 
many,  will  be  considered  unwarrantable  ;  but,  as  Whitefield 
will  ever  be  a  grand  object  of  attention  in  the  church  of 
Christ,  and  as  myriads,  yet  unborn,  will  study  his  character, 
or  hear  of  his  conversion,  it  shall  not  be  my  fault  if  that 
conversion  is  misunderstood  by  posterity,  or  any  thing  ga- 


wiiitefield's  life   and   times.  31 

thered  from  it  in  behalf  of  such  mcthodism  as  he  was  led  into 
then. 

I  duly  appreciate  the  benevolence,  the  zeal,  and  the  sincer- 
ity of  the  Wesleys  ;  but,  in  this  instance,  and  at  that  time, 
those  virtues  rank  no  higher  in  them  than  the  same  virtues  in 
Mahomedans  or  Hindoos ; — amount  to  no  more  at  Oxford 
than  they  would  at  Mecca  or  Benares.  Now  if,  instead  of  the 
Wesleys,  the  same  number  of  Wahabees  had  been  about 
Whitefield,  inculcating  their  simplified  Islamism ; — who  would 
have  ascribed  to  them,  or  to  it,  any  usefulness  ?  Both  would 
have  been  arraigned,  as  diverting  him  from  the  gospel  of 
Christ ;  nor  would  the  sincerity  of  the  Wahabees,  or  the  self- 
denying  character  of  their  habits,  have  shielded  either  from 
severe  reprehension.  The  only  apology  that  any  one  would 
have  thought  of  offering  for  them,  would  have  been,  UI  wot 
that  through  ignorance  ye  did  it."  In  like  manner,  I  am  quite 
ready  to  say  of  the  Wesleys,  "I  bear  them  record,  that  they 
had  a  zeal  of  God  ;  but  not  according  to  knowledge;  "  a  fact 
which  neutralizes  their  Oxford  piety  into  well-meant  super- 
stition. Such  explanations  are  wanted,  now  that  devotion, 
apart  from  faith,  and  penitential  feeling,  apart  from  the  know- 
ledge of  "  the  truth,"  are  often  hailed  as  conversion  to  God. 
This  is  a  sore  evil  under  the  sun,  and  one  not  easily  touched, 
without  seeming  to  slight  symptoms  of  piety.  I  must,  how- 
ever, attempt  to  unmask  this  plausible  "form  of  godliness," 
whatever  suspicions  my  freedom  may  awaken. 

Whitefield,  in  the  simplicity  of  his  heart,  calls  the  events  of 
this  period,  "the  dealings  of  God"  with  him,  and  records 
them  as  the  gradual  steps  by  which  he  was  led  to  believe  in 
Christ  for  righteousness.  And,  so  far  as  they  were  made  in- 
strumental in  discovering  to  him  his  own  weakness,  and  in 
weaning  him  from  sin  and  vanity,  they  were  "the  dealings  of 
God  ;"  but,  so  far  as  his  maxims  and  habits  were  supersti- 
tious and  unscriptural,  God  must  not  be  identified  with  them, 
nor  even  implicated  in  the  least.  All  the  hand  He  had  in 
this  part  of  the  transaction  was,  that  he  made  these  austerities 
and  superstitions  their  own  punishment,  and  prevented  them 
from  ruining  an  ignorant  young  man.  So  far  as  their  own 
natural  influence  went,  it  increased  the  spirit  of  bondage,  and 
diverted  the  sinner  from  God's  appointed  remedy.  W  e  have 
seen,  from  Whitefield's  own  acknowledgments,  and  Wesley's 
too,  that  the  further  such  measures  were  pursued,  the  further 
the  methodists  were  from  solid  relief.     Now  it  cannot  be 


32  whitefield' s   life   and   times. 

supposed,  for  a  moment,  that  God's  dealings  with  the  soul 
divert  it  from  the  Saviour  ;  nor  that  any  thing  is  the  work  of 
His  Spirit  on  the  heart,  which  leads  to  absurdities  and  extra- 
vagance. And  if  this  be  granted,  then  a  great  part  of  those 
things  in  the  experience  of  Whitefield,  which  strike  the  mind 
so  forcibly,  lose  all  their  importance,  except  as  facts.  As 
feelings,  motives,  ormaxims  in  religion,  they  have  no  weight; 
but  were,  while  they  continued,  the  actual  rivals  of  faith  and 
evangelical  repentance.  For  any  thing,  therefore,  which  ap- 
pears to  the  contrary,  his  conversion  would  not  have  been  less 
genuine,  if  he  had  never  gone  through  the  exercise  of  mind 
produced  by  these  causes.  The  horror,  the  depression,  the 
despair,  which  preceded  his  being  born  again,  were  neither 
elementary  nor  necessary  parts  of  regeneration.  Humanly 
speaking,  a  clear  exhibition  of  the  plan  of  salvation,  if  pre- 
sented to  him,  when  he  entered  Oxford,  would  have  relieved 
his  mind  at  once,  and  introduced  him  into  the  liberty  of  the 
sons  of  God.  He  was  not  indeed  so  fully  prepared  to  prize 
the  gospel  then,  as  when  he  did  believe  it  with  the  heart ;  but, 
although  less  humble,  less  in  earnest,  at  the  time  of  his  arrival, 
even  then  he  was  awakened  to  a  sense  of  his  guilt  and  dan- 
ger. Now,  the  question  is,  would  not  the  gospel  itself,  if  it 
had  been  preached  to  him  at  this  time,  have  effected  a  change 
of  heart  ?  Would  not  the  glad  tidings  of  a  finished  salva- 
tion, addressed  to  him,  as  he  was,  have  melted,  humbled,  and 
converted  him,  without  the  preliminary  process  he  went 
through  ?  The  only  thing  valuable  in  that  process  is,  the 
humbling  effect  of  it ;  but  if  the  same  kind  and  degree  of 
humility  would  result  from  believing  the  gospel,  then  faith  in 
Christ  ought  to  be  the  first  step  pressed  upon  an  awakened 
sinner. 

I  have  been  induced  to  throw  out  these  hints,  because  so 
many  persons  imagine  that  they  have  no  warrant  for  believing 
in  Christ,  until  they  experience  such  convictions,  and  possess 
such  feelings,  as  converts  like  Whitefield  did.  The  conse- 
quence is,  that  they  live  on  looking  for  what  they  call  "  a  day 
of  power,"  which  shall  qualify  them  for  the  exercise  of 
faith.  This  false  and  fatal  maxim  must  not  be  allowed 
to  shelter  itself  in  the  example  of  Whitefield  ;  and  that  it 
may  not  intrench  itself  there,  I  have  felt  it  my  duty  to  ex- 
pose the  true  character  of  his  preliminary  experience.  It  was 
useful,  but  how  1  Not  by  its  own  direct  influence  ;  that 
was  injurious  in  every  sense  ;  but  its  usefulness  in  humbling, 


whitefield's  life   and  times.  33 

and  in  emptying  him  of  self-dependence,  arose  from  its  being 
overruled  for  good  by  the  Spirit  of  God.  This  being  the  fact, 
let  no  one  quote  Whitefield's  experience  in  proof  of  the  ne- 
cessity of  going  through  such  a  process  of  awakening  as  he 
underwent.  The  gospel,  itself,  is  "  power  unto  salvation  to 
every  one  that  believeth  ;  "  and  nothing  is  religion,  which 
precedes  the  belief  of  it,  except  such  exercises  as  naturally 
lead  to  faith. 

Although  I  have  grouped,  into  one  view,  the  mental  aber- 
rations and  bodily  sufferings  of  Whitcfield,  whilst  at  Oxford, 
there  were,  during  the  period  it  embraces,  calm  and  lucid 
intervals,  in  which  he  combined  with  his  studies,  efforts  to  do 
good  in  the  city.  Like  his  friends,  he  was  the  friend  of  the 
poor  ;  but  not  without  giving  offence  to  his  superiors. 

"  I  incurred  the  displeasure  of  the  master  of  the  college, 
who  frequently  chid,  and  once  threatened  to  expel  me,  if  I 
ever  visited  the  poor  again.  Being  surprised  by  this  treat- 
ment, and  overawed  by  his  authority,  I  spake  unadvisedly 
with  my  lips,  and  said,  if  it  displeased  him,  I  would  not.  My 
conscience  soon  smote  me  for  this  sinful  compliance.  I 
immediately  repented,  and  visited  the  poor  the  first  opportu- 
nity, and  told  my  companions,  if  ever  I  was  called  to  a  stake, 
for  Christ's  sake,  I  would  serve  my  tongue  as  Archbishop 
Cranmer  served  his  hand, — make  that  burn  first!"  Nor 
were  his  efforts  confined  to  private  houses  :  he  constantly 
visited  the  town  gaol  to  read  and  pray  with  the  prisoners.  One 
instance  of  this  is  too  remarkable  to  be  passed  over. 

"  As  I  was  walking  along,  I  met  with  a  poor  woman, 
whose  husband  was  then  in  bocardo,  Oxford  town  gaol. 
Seeing  her  much  discomposed,  I  inquired  the  cause.  She 
told  me,  that  not  being  able  to  bear  the  crying  of  her  children, 
and,  having  nothing  to  relieve  them,  she  had  been  to  drown 
herself — but  was  mercifully  prevented — and  said,  she  was 
coming'  to  my  room  to  inform  me  of  it.  I  gave  her  some 
immediate  relief,  and  desired  her  to  meet  me  at  the  prison, 
with  her  husband,  in  the  afternoon.  She  came  ;  and  there 
God  visited  them  both  by  his  free  grace.  She  was  power- 
fully quickened  ;  and  when  I  had  done  reading,  he  came  to  me 
like  the  trembling  jailer,  and,  grasping  my  hand,  cried  out, 
•i"  am  upon  the  brink  of  hell !  '  From  this  time  forward  both 
of  them  grew  in  grace.  God,  by  his  providence,  soon 
delivered  him  from  his  confinement.  Though  notorious  of- 
fenders against  God  and  one  another  before,  yet  now  they 


34  whitefield's  life   and  times. 

became  helps  meet  for  each  other  in  the  great  work  of  their 
salvation." 

In  the  same  spirit  he  also  exerted  himself  on  behalf  of  his 
relations  and  friends,  at  Gloucester.  His  discovery  of  the 
necessity  of  regeneration,  like  Melancthon's  discovery  of  the 
truth,  led  him  to  imagine,  that  no  one  could  resist  the  evi- 
dence which  convinced  his  own  mind.  "  Upon  this,  like  the 
woman  of  Samaria,  when  Christ  revealed  himself  to  her  at 
the  well,  I  had  no  rest  in  my  soul,  till  I  wrote  letters  to  my 
relations,  telling  them  there  was  such  a  thing  as  the  new 
birth.  I  imagined  they  would  have  gladly  received  it :  but 
alas  !  my  words  seemed  to  them  as  idle  tales.  They  thought 
I  was  going  beside  myself." 

I  have  not  been  able  to  obtain  any  of  the  letters  on  this 
subject,  which  he  addressed  to  his  own  family;  but  the  fol- 
lowing extract  from  one  to  a  friend,  will  be  a  sufficient  speci- 
men of  their  character. 

"  Lest  you  should  imagine  that  true  religion  consists  in 
any  thing  besides  an  entire  renewal  of  our  nature  into  the 
image  of  God,  I  have  sent  you  a  book,  entitled,  '  The  Life  of 
God  in  the  Soul  of  Man,'  written  by  a  young,  but  an  eminent 
Christian  ; — which  will  inform  you  what  true  religion  is, 
and  how  you  may  attain  it ;  as,  likewise,  how  wretchedly 
most  people  err  in  their  sentiments  about  it,  who  suppose  it 
to  be  nothing  else  (as  he  tells  us,  page  3)  but  a  mere  model 
of  outward  performances  ;  without  ever  considering,  that  all 
our  corrupt  passions  must  be  subdued,  and  a  complex  habit 
of  virtues — such  as  meekness,  lowliness,  faith,  hope,  and  the 
love  of  God  and  of  man — be  implanted  in  their  room,  before  we 
can  have  the  least  title  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God. 
Our  Divine  Master  having  expressly  told  us,  that  unless  we 
'  renounce  ourselves,  and  take  up  our  cross  daily,  we  cannot 
be  his  disciples.'  And  again,  '  unless  we  have  the  spirit? of 
Christ,  we  are  none  of  his.'  " 

This  advice  met,  we  are  informed,  "with  a  cold  reception," 
and  was  an  ungrateful  subject  to  his  friend  at  first ;  and  yet, 
even  while  it  was  so,  such  were  his  confused  notions  of  reli- 
gion, that  he  urges  his  friend  to  receive  "the  holy  communion" 
frequently  ;  assuring  him,  that  "  nothing  so  much  bedwarfs 
us  in  religion,  as  staying  away  from  the  heavenly  banquet." 
As  if  a  man,  who  had  no  relish  for  the  doctrine  of  regenera- 
tion, could  have  any  religion  ! 

Having  thus  noticed  the  line  of  conduct  which,  notwith* 


WHITE  FIELD'S    LIFE    AND    TIMES.  35 

standing  all  his  crude  notions,  he  pursued  at  Oxford, — I 
proceed  now  to  record  the  means  by  which  he  was  supported 
during  his  stay  at  the  University.  It  will  be  recollected 
that  his  chief  dependence  was  upon  the  emoluments  of  ser- 
vitorship. 

"  Soon  after  my  acceptance  I  went  and  resided,  and  found 
my  having  been  used  to  a  public-house  was  now  of  service  to 
me.  For,  many  of  the  servitors  being  sick,  at  my  first  com- 
ing up,  by  my  diligent  and  steady  attendance,  I  ingratiated 
myself  into  the  gentlemen's  favour  so  far,  that  many  who  had 
it  in  their  power  chose  me  to  be  their  servitor.  This  much 
lessened  my  expense  ;  and,  indeed,  God  was  so  gracious, 
that  with  the  profits  of  my  place,  and  some  little  presents 
made  me  by  my  kind  tutor,  for  almost  the  first  three  years  I 
did  not  put  all  my  relations  together  to  above  £24  expense." 
When  he  joined  himself  to  the  methodists,  the  profits  of  his 
place  were,  as  might  be  expected,  diminished  :  a  number 
"  took  away  their  pay  from  me  ;  "  but  other  sources  of  sup- 
ply were  soon  opened  for  him.  Some  of  the  methodists 
having  left  Oxford  about  this  time,  and  being  solicitous  to 
keep  up  the  society,  wrote  to  Sir  John  Philips  of  London, 
commending  Whitefield  to  his  patronage,  "  as  a  proper  per- 
son "  to  say  and  encourage  their  friends  in  fighting  the  good 
fight  of  faith.  "  Accordingly  he  immediately  offered  me  an 
annuity  of  twenty  pounds.  To  show  his  disinterestedness, 
he  has  promised  me  that,  whether  I  continue  here  or  not ; 
and  if  I  resolve  to  stay  at  Oton,  he'll  give  me  thirty  pounds  a 
year.  If  that  will  not  do,  I  may  have  more."  In  this  man- 
ner was  he  provided  for,  when  his  original  resources  failed. 

The  state  of  his  health,  however,  compelled  him  to  quit, 
for  a  time,  his  "  sweet  retirement  "  at  Oxford.  So  long  as 
he  could,  he  resisted  all  the  persuasions  of  his  tutor  and  phy- 
sician, and  all  the  invitations  of  his  mother  to  visit  Glouces- 
ter. Their  urgency  at  length  prevailed,  and  he  returned 
home.  "  My  friends  were  surprised  to  see  me  look  and  be- 
have so  cheerfully,  after  the  many  reports  they  had  heard 
concerning  me." 

"  However,  I  soon  found  myself  to  be  as  a  sheep  sent  forth 
amongst  wolves  in  sheep's  clothing  ;  for  they  immediately  en- 
deavoured to  dissuade  me  from  a  constant  use  of  the  means 
of  grace  ;  especially  from  weekly  abstinence,  and  receiving 
the  blessed  sacrament.  But  God  enabled  me  to  resist  them, 
steadfast  in  the  faith;  and,  by  keeping  close  to  him  in  his  holy 
ordinances,  I  was  made  to  triumph  over  all." 


36         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

"  Being  unaccustomed  for  some  time  to  live  without  spir- 
itual companions,  and  finding  none  that  would  heartily  join 
me — no,  not  one — I  watched  unto  prayer  all  the  day  long  ; 
beseeching  God  to  raise  me  some  religious  associates  in  his 
own  way  and  time.  '  /  will  endeavour  cither  to  find  or  make 
a  friend  '  had  been  my  resolution  now  for  some  time,  and 
therefore  after  importunate  prayer  one  day,  I  resolved  to  go 

to  the  house  of  one  Mrs.  W ,  to  whom  1  had  formerly  read 

plays,  Spectators,  Pope's  Homer, and  such  like  trifling  books; 
hoping  the  alteration  she  now  would  find  in  my  sentiments, 
might,  under  God,  influence  her  soul.  God  was  pleased  to 
bless  the  visit  with  the  desired  effect  :  she  received  the  word 
gladly  :  she  wanted  to  be  taught  the  way  of  God  more  per- 
fectly, and  soon  became  'a  fool  for  Christ's  sake.'  Not  long 
after,  God  made  me  instrumental  to  awaken  several  young 
persons,  who  soon  formed  themselves  into  a  little  society,  and 
had  quickly  the  honour  of  being  despised  at  Gloucester,  as 
we  had  been  before  them  at  Oxford.  Thus,  all  that  will  live 
godly  in  Christ  Jesus,  must  suffer  persecution." 

As  his  efforts  and  usefulness,  during  the  period  of  this  visit 
to  Gloucester,  may  be  viewed  as  the  dawn  of  his  future  zeal 
and  success,  it  will  be  proper,  before  enumerating  more  in- 
stances, to  record,  distinctly,  the  manner  in  which  he  prepar- 
ed himself  for  doing  good  to  others. 
.  "  My  mind  being  now  more  open  and  enlarged,  I  began  to 
read  the  holy  Scriptures  upon  my  knees;  laying  aside  all 
other  books,  and  praying  over,  if  possible,  every  line  and 
word.  This  proved  meat  indeed,  and  drink  indeed,  to  my 
soul.  I  daily  received  fresh  life,  light,  and  power  from  above. 
I  got  more  true  knowledge  from  reading  the  book  of  God,  in 
one  month,  than  I  could  ever  have  acquired  from  all  the  wri- 
tings of  men.  In  one  word,  I  found  it  profitable  for  reproof, 
for  correction,  for  instruction;  every  way  sufficient  to  make 
the  man  of  God  perfect,  thoroughly  furnished  for  every  good 
work  and  word.  About  this  time  God  was  pleased  to  en- 
lighten my  soul,  and  bring  me  into  the  knowledge  of  his  free 
grace — and  the  necessity  of  being  justified  in  His  sight  by 
faith  only.  This  was  more  extraordinary,  because  my 
friends  at  Oxford  had  rather  inclined  to  the  mystic  divinity. 
Burkitt's  and  Henry's  Expositions  were  of  admirable  use,  to 
lead  me  into  this  and  all  other  gospel  truths.  It  is  the  good 
old  doctrine  of  the  church  of  England  ;  it  is  what  the  holy 
martyrs,  in  Queen  Mary's  time,  sealed  with  their  blood."    To 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         37 

these  habits  of  reading,  Whitefield  added  much  secret  prayer. 
"Oh,  what  sweet  communion  had  I  daily  vouchsafed  with 
God  in  prayer  after  my  coming  to  Gloucester!  How  often 
have  I  been  carried  out  beyond  myself,  when  meditating  in 
the  fields!  How  assuredly  I  felt  that  Christ  dwelt  in  me  and  I 
in  Him,  and  how  daily  did  I  walk  in  the  comforts  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  was  edified  and  refreshed  in  the  multitude  of 
peace!" 

Such  were  Whitefield's  private  habits  while  attempting  to 
be  useful  in  public.  His  zeal  and  success  will  now  be  un- 
derstood. 

"I  always  observed  that  as  my  inward  strength  increased, 
so  my  outward  sphere  of  action  increased  proportionably.  In 
a  short  time,  therefore,  I  began  to  read  to  some  poor  people 
twice  or  thrice  a  week.  I  likewise  visited  two  other  little  so- 
cieties besides  my  own.  Occasionally,  as  business  and  op- 
portunity permitted,  I  generally  visited  one  or  two  sick  persons 
every  day;  and  though  silver  and  gold  I  had  little  of  my  own, 
yet  in  imitation  of  my  Lord's  disciples,  who  entreated  in  be- 
half of  the  fainting  multitude,  I  used  to  pray  unto  Him ;  and 
he,  from  time  to  time,  inclined  several  that  were  rich  in  this 
world,  to  give  me  money;  so  that  I  generally  had  a  little  stock 
for  the  poor  always  in  my  hand.  One  of  the  poor,  whom  I 
visited  in  this  manner,  was  called  effectually  by  God  at  the 
eleventh  hour  :  she  was  a  woman  above  threescore  years  old; 
and,  I  really  believe,  died  in  the  true  faith  of  Jesus  Christ. 

"  At  my  first  coming  to  Gloucester,  being  used  to  visit  the 
prisoners  at  Oxford,  I  prayed  most  earnestly  that  God  would 
open  a  door  for  me  to  visit  the  prisoners  here  also.  Quickly 
after,  I  dreamed  that  one  of  the  prisoners  came  to  be  in- 
structed by  me  :  it  was  much  impressed  upon  my  heart.  In 
the  morning  I  went  to  the  door  of  the  county  gaol ; — I  knock- 
ed, but  nobody  came  to  open  it.  I  waited  still  upon  God  in 
prayer  ;  and  in  some  months  after,  came  a  letter  from  a  friend 
at  Oxford,  desiring  me  to  go  to  one  Pebworth,  who  had  bro- 
ken out  of  Oxford  gaol,  and  was  re-taken  at  Gloucester.  As 
soon  as  I  read  this  letter,  it  appeared  to  me  that  my  prayer 
was  now  answered.  Immediately  I  went  to  the  prison :  I 
met  with  the  person,  and  finding  him  and  some  others  willing 
to  hear  the  word  of  God,  (having  gained  leave  of  the  keeper 
and  two  ordinaries,)  I  constantly  read  to  and  prayed  with 
them,  every  day  I  was  in  town.  I  also  begged  money  for 
them,  whereby  I  was  enabled  to  release  some  of  them,  and 

4 


38         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

cause  provision  to  be  distributed  weekly  among  them  ;  as 
also  to  put  such  books  into  their  hands  as  I  judged  most  pro- 
per. I  cannot  say  that  any  one  of  the  prisoners  was  effectu- 
ally wrought  upon;  however,  much  evil  was  prevented,  many 
were  convinced,  and  my  own  soul  was  much  edified  and 
strengthened  in  the  love  of  God  and  man. 

"  During  my  stay  here,  God  enabled  me  to  give  a  public 
testimony  of  my  repentance, — as  to  seeing  and  acting  plays; 
for,  hearing  the  strollers  had  come  to  town,  and  knowing 
what  an  egregious  offender  I  had  been,  I  was  stirred  up  to 
extract  Mr.  Law's  excellent  treatise,  entitled,  'The  Absolute 
Unlawfulness  of  the  Stage  Entertainment.'  The  printer  at 
my  request  put  a  little  of  it  in  the  news,  for  six  weeks  suc- 
cessively ;  and  God  was  pleased  to  give  it  his  blessing."  In 
this  manner  Whitefield  employed  himself  during  nine  months; 
and  one  effect  of  pursuing  such  plans  was,  that  "  the  partition- 
wall  of  bigotry  and  sect  religion  was  soon  broken  down  "  in 
his  heart.  "I  loved  all,  of  whatever  denomination,  that  loved 
the  Lord  Jesus  in  sincerity."  This  acknowledgment  stands, 
in  his  diary,  connected  with  an  account  of  the  benefit  he  de- 
rived from  studying  the  works  of  the  non-conformists.  Bax- 
ter's "Call"  and  Allein's  "Alarm,"  accorded  so  with  his 
own  ideas  of  fidelity  and  unction,  that  wherever  he  recognized 
their  spirit  he  acknowledged  "a  brother  beloved." 

Upon  this  portion  of  his  history  the  mind  dwells  with  al- 
most unmixed  delight :  the  only  drawback  is,  the  undue  im- 
portance attached  by  him  to  dreams  ;  and  even  those,  consi- 
dered as  an  index  to  his  waking  thoughts,  are  interesting ; 
revealing,  as  they  do,  his  deep  solicitude  on  behalf  of  souls. 
His  zeal  was  now  according  to  knowledge  ; — his  object,  at 
once,  definite  and  scriptural  ; — his  measures  direct  and  ra- 
tional,— and  his  motives  truly  evangelical.  Drawing  his  own 
hope  and  consolation  immediately  from  the  oracles  of  God, 
he  led  others  direct  to  the  same  source  ;  shutting  up  to  the 
faith  those  he  associated  with.  In  this  respect  Whitefield 
presents  a  striking  contrast  to  Wesley,  at  the  commencement 
of  his  public  exertions.  The  latter,  although  equally  con- 
scientious, was  so  crazed  with  the  crude  notions  of  the  mys- 
tics, that  when  he  left  Oxford  to  visit  Georgia,  Law's  "Chris- 
tian Perfection  "  was  almost  his  text-book,  while  instructing 
his  fellow-passengers.  Accordingly  the  success  of  the  two, 
at  the  time,  was  as  different  as  the  means  which  they  several- 
ly  adopted.     While   Whitefield   won  souls   by  reading  the 


whitefield's    life    and    times.  39 

Scriptures,  Wesley,  by  inculcating  the  austerities  of  the  asce- 
tics, laboured  in  vain  :  he  was  long  "  esteemed  an  Ishmael ; 
for  his  hand  was  against  every  man,  and  every  man's  hand 
was  against  him." 

During  the  latter  part  of  Whitefield's  residence  in  Glou- 
cester, although  "  despised  "  by  many,  his  friends  multiplied 
in  spite  of  all  the  odium  which  his  opinions  and  practice  call- 
ed forth.  They  became  urgent  for  his  immediate  ordination, 
and  solicitous  to  see  him  in  a  sphere  worthy  of  his  talents  and 
zeal.  But  such  were,  now,  his  views  of  the  ministry,  that  he 
put  a  decided  negative  upon  all  their  applications  ;  intrench- 
ing his  refusal  in  a  resolution  of  the  diocesans,  "not  to  ordain 
any  under  twenty-three  years  of  age."  He  was  not  yet 
twenty-one.  This  apparently  insurmountable  objection  was, 
however,  soon  removed.  He  obtained,  about  this  time,  an 
introduction  to  Lady  Selwyn,  who  had  marked  her  approba- 
tion of  him  by  a  handsome  present  of  money,  and  by  an  im- 
mediate application  to  the  bishop  on  his  behalf.  The  charac- 
ter she  seems  to  have  given  of  him  had  its  due  weight  with 
Dr.  Benson.  "  As  I  was  coming  from  the  cathedral  prayers, 
thinking  of  no  such  thing,  one  of  the  vergers  called  after  me, 
and  said,  the  bishop  desired  to  speak  with  me.  I  immediate- 
ly turned  back,  considering  within  myself,  what  I  had  done 
to  deserve  his  lordship's  displeasure.  When  I  came  to  the 
top  of  the  palace  stairs,  the  bishop  took  me  by  the  hand,  told 
me  he  was  glad  to  see  me,  and  bid  me  wait  a  little,  till  he  had 
put  off  his  habit,  and  he  would  return  to  me  again.  This 
gave  me  an  opportunity  of  praying  to  God  for  his  assistance, 
and  adoring  him  for  his  providence  over  me.  At  his  coming 
again  into  the  room,  the  bishop  told  me  that  he  had  heard  of 
my  character,  liked  my  behaviour  at  church  ;  and,  inquiring 
my  age,  said,  'notwithstanding  I  have  declared  I  would  not 
ordain  any  one  under  three  and  twenty,  yet  I  shall  think  it  my 
duty  to  ordain  you,  whenever  you  come  for  holy  orders.''  He 
then  made  me  a  present  of  five  guineas  to  buy  me  a  book." 
Thus  was  the  chief  external  hinderance  removed  at  once  ; 
and  with  it,  his  hesitation  vanished.  "  From  the  time  I  first 
entered  the  University,  especially  from  the  time  I  knew  what 
was  true  and  undefiled  Christianity,  I  entertained  high  thoughts 
of  the  importance  of  the  ministerial  office,  and  was  not  soli- 
citous what  place  should  be  prepared  for  me,  but  how  I  should 
be  prepared  for  a  place.  That  saying  of  the  Apostle,  *  Not  a 
novice,  lest  being  puffed  up  with  pride,  he  fall  into  the  con- 


40  W  HI  T  E  F  I  E  L  D  '  S     LIFE     AND     TIMES. 

demnation  of  the  evil; '  and  that  first  question  of  our  excel- 
lent ordination  office,  « Do  you  trust  that  you  are  inwardly 
moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost  to  take  upon  you  this  office  and 
administration  1 '  used  even  to  make  me  tremble,  whenever  I 
thought  of  entering  into  the  ministry.  The  shyness  of  Moses 
and  some  other  prophets,  when  God  sent  them  out  in  a  public 
capacity,  I  thought  was  sufficient  to  teach  me,  not  to  run  until 
I  was  called.  He  who  knoweth  the  hearts  of  men,  is  witness 
that  I  never  prayed  more  earnestly  against  any  thing,  than  I 
did  against  entering  into  this  service  of  the  church,  so  soon. 
Oftentimes  I  have  been  in  an  agony  in  prayer,  when  under 
convictions  of  my  insufficiency  for  so  great  a  work ; — with 
strong  cries  and  tears,  I  have  frequently  said,  'Lord,  I  am  a 
youth  of  uncircttmcised  lips:  Loid,  send  me  not  into  thy  vine- 
yard yet!'  And  sometimes  I  had  reason  to  think  God  was 
angry  with  me  for  resisting  his  will.  However,  I  was  resolv- 
ed to  pray  thus  as  long  as  I  could.  If  God  did  not  grant  my 
request  in  keeping  me  out  of  it,  I  knew  his  grace  would  be 
sufficient  to  support  and  strengthen  me  whenever  he  sent  me 
into  the  ministry. 

"  To  my  prayers  I  added  my  endeavours,  and  wrote  letters 
to  my  friends  at  Oxford,  beseeching  them  to  pray  to  God  to 
disappoint  my  country  friends,  who  were  for  my  taking  orders 
as  soon  as  possible.  Their  answer  was,  '  Pray  we  the  Lord 
of  the  harvest  to  send  thee  and  many  more  labourers  into  his 
harvest.'  Another  old  and  worthy  minister  of  Christ,  when  I 
wrote  to  him  about  the  meaning  of  the  word  novice,  answered, 
it  meant  a  novice  in  grace,  and  not  in  years ;  and  he  was 
pleased  to  add — if  St.  Paul  were  then  at  Gloucester,  he  be- 
lieved St.  Paul  would  ordain  me.  All  this  did  not  satisfy  me  : 
I  still  continued  instant  in  prayer  against  going  into  holy  or- 
ders, and  was  not  thoroughly  convinced  it  was  the  divine  will, 
till  God,  by  his  providence,  brought  me  acquainted  with  the 
bishop  of  Gloucester."  "  Before  I  came  home,  the  news  had 
reached  my  friends,  who  being  fond  of  my  having  such  a  great 
man's  favour,  were  very  solicitous  to  know  the  event  of  my 
visit.  Many  things  I  hid  from  them  ;  but  when  they  pressed 
me  hard,  I  was  obliged  to  tell  them  how  the  bishop,  of  his 
own  accord,  had  offered  to  give  me  holy  orders  whenever  I 
would.  On  which  they,  knowing  how  I  had  depended  on  the 
declaration  his  lordship  had  made  some  time  ago,  said,  and  I 
then  began  to  think  myself,  that,  if  I  held  out  any  longer,  I 
should  fight  against  God.     At  length  I  came  to  a  resolution, 


whitefield's    life    and    times.  41 

by  God's  leave,  to  offer  myself  for  holy  orders  the  next  Em- 
ber-days." 

Having  thus  surmounted  his  difficulties,  he  proceeded,  at 
once,  to  prepare  himself  for  ordination.  He  had  before  satis- 
fied himself  of  the  truth  of  the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  by  com- 
paring them  with  the  Scriptures  ;  but  it  does  not  appear  that 
the  Prayer  Book,  as  a  whole,  was  submitted  to  the  same  test : 
he  seems  to  have  taken  its  truth  for  granted.  This  is  the 
more  remarkable,  because,  in  every  thing  else,  he  was  con- 
scientious. 

"  I  strictly  examined  myself  by  the  qualifications  required 
for  a  minister,  in  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  Timothy,  and  also  by 
every  question  that  I  knew  would  be  put  to  me  at  the  time  of 
my  ordination.  This  latter  I  drew  out  in  writing,  at  large, 
and  sealed  my  approbation  of  it  every  Sunday,  at  the  blessed 
sacrament.  At  length,  Trinity  Sunday  being  near  at  hand, 
and  having  my  testimonials  from  the  college,  I  went,  a  fort- 
night beforehand,  to  Gloucester,  intending  to  compose  some 
sermons,  and  to  give  myself  more  particularly  to  prayer. 
When  I  came  to  Gloucester,  notwithstanding  I  strove  and 
prayed  for  several  days,  and  had  matter  enough  in  my  heart, 
yet  I  was  so  restrained,  that  I  could  not  compose  any  thing 
at  all.  I  mentioned  my  case  to  a  clergyman  :  he  said  I  was 
an  enthusiast.  I  wrote  to  another  who  was  experienced  in 
the  divine  life :  he  gave  me  some  reasons  why  God  might 
deal  with  me  in  that  manner  ;  and,  withal,  promised  me  his 
prayers.  The  remainder  of  the  fortnight  I  spent  in  reading 
the  several  missions  of  the  prophets  and  apostles,  and  wres- 
tled with  God  to  give  me  grace  to  follow  their  good  examples. 

"  About  three  days  before  the  time  appointed  for  ordina- 
tion, the  bishop  came  to  town.  The  next  evening  I  sent 
his  lordship  an  abstract  of  my  private  examination  upon 
these  two  questions :  lDo  you  trust  that  you  are  inwardly 
moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost  to  take  upon  you  this  office  and 
administration  ? '  And,  '■Are  you  called  according  to  the 
will  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  laws  of  this  realm  V 
The  next  morning  I  waited  upon  the  bishop.  He  received 
me  with  much  love  ;  telling  me  he  was  glad  I  was  come,  and 
that  he  was  satisfied  with  the  preparation  I  had  made.  Upon 
this  I  took  my  leave  ;  abashed  with  God's  goodness  to  such 
a  wretch,  but,  withal,  exceedingly  rejoiced,  that,  in  every 
circumstance,  he  made  my  way  into  the  ministry  so  very 
plain  before  my  face  !     This,  I  think,  was  on  Friday.     The 

4* 


42  whitefield's   life   and   times. 

day  following  I  continued  in  abstinence  and  prayer.  In  the 
evening,  I  retired  to  a  hill  near  the  town,  and  prayed  fer- 
vently, tor  about  two  hours,  on  behalf  of  myself  and  those 
that  were  to  be  ordained  with  me.  On  Sunday  morning 
I  rose  early,  and  prayed  over  St.  Paul's  Epistle  to  Timothy, 
and  more  particularly  over  that  precept,  '■Let  no  one  despise 
thy  youth.'  When  I  went  up  to  the  altar,  I  could  think  of 
nothing  but  Samue.Ps  standing,  a  little  child,  before  the  Lord, 
with  a  linen  Ephod.  When  the  bishop  laid  his  hands  upon 
my  head,  my  heart  was  melted  down,  and  I  offered  up  my 
whole  spirit,  soul,  and  body,  to  the  service  of  God's  sanc- 
tuary. I  read  the  gospel  at  the  bishop's  command,  with 
power,  and  afterward  sealed  the  good  confession  I  had 
made  before  many  witnesses,  by  partaking  of  the  holy  sa- 
crament." 

His  feelings  and  views  upon  this  solemn  occasion,  are  re- 
corded, still  more  forcibly,  in  two  letters  to  a  friend.  The 
first  is  so  excellent,  that  no  apology  is  required  for  inserting 
it  here  entire. 

"Gloucester,  June  20th,  1736. 
"  My  dear  friend, — 
"  This  is  a  day  much  to  be  remembered,  O,  my  soul !  for, 
about  noon,  I  was  solemnly  admitted  by  good  Bishop  Benson, 
before  many  witnesses,  into  holy  orders  ;  and  was,  blessed  be 
God  !  kept  composed  both  before  and  after  imposition  of 
hands.  I  endeavoured  to  behave  with  unaffected  devotion ; 
but  not  suitable  enough  to  the  greatness  of  the  office  I  was  to 
undertake.  At  the  same  time,  I  trust,  I  answered  to  every 
question  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart,  and  heartily  prayed 
that  God  might  say,  Amen.  I  hope  the  good  of  souls  will  be 
my  only  principle  of  action.  Let  come  what  will — life  or 
death — depth  or  height — I  shall  henceforward  live  like  one, 
who  this  day,  in  the  presence  of  men  and  angels,  took  the 
holy  sacrament  upon  the  profession  of  being  inwardly  moved 
by  the  Holy  Ghost,  to  take  upon  me  that  ministration  in  the 
church.  This  I  began  with  reading  prayers  to  the  prisoners 
in  the  county  gaol.  Whether  I  myself  shall  ever  have  the 
honour  of  styling  myself — 4a  prisoner  of  the  Lord,'  I  know 
not ;  but  indeed,  my  dear  friend,  I  can  call  heaven  and 
earth  to  witness,  that  when  the  bishop  laid  his  hand  upon 
me,  I  gave  myself  up  to  be  a  martyr  for  Him,  who  hung  upon 
the  cross  for  me.     Known  unto  Him  are  all   future  events 


whitefield's   life   and   times.  43 

and  contingencies.  I  have  thrown  myself  blindfold,  and,  I 
trust,  without  reserve,  into  his  almighty  hands  ;  only  I  would 
have  you  observe — that  till  you  hear  of  my  dying  for  or  in 
my  tvork,  you  will  not  be  apprized  of  all  the  -preferment  that 
is  expected  by 

G.  W." 

TO    THE    SAME. 

"  June  23. 
"Dear  friend, — 

"Never  a  poor  creature  set  up  with  so  small  a  stock.     *  * 

*  *  My  intention  was  to  make,  at  least,  a  hundred  ser- 
mons, with  which  to  begin  the  ministry  ;  but  this  is  so  far  from 
being  the  case,  that  I  have  not  a  single  one  by  me,  except 
that  which  I  made  for  a  small  Christian  society,  and  which  I 
sent  to  a  neighbouring  clergyman,  to  convince  him  how  unfit 
I  was  to  take  upon  me  the  important  work  of  preaching.  He 
kept  it  for  a  fortnight,  and  then  sent  it  back,  with  a  guinea 
for  the  loan  of  it ;  telling  me  he  had  divided  it  into  two,  and 
had  preached  it  morning  and  evening  to  his  congregation. 
With  this  sermon  I  intend  to  begin,  God  willing,  next  Sun- 
day. *  *  *  *  Help,  help  me,  my  dear  friend,  with 
your  warmest  addresses  to  the  throne  of  grace,  that  I  may 
not  only  find  mercy,  but  grace  to  help  in  time  of  need.     *     * 

*  *  O,  cease  not ;  for  I  must  again  repeat  it,  cease  not  to 
pray  for 

G.  W." 

The  intense  energy  of  these  appeals  to  God  and  man, 
forms  a  striking  contrast  to  his  first  views  of  the  ministry, 
and  leads  the  mind  to  expect  a  corresponding  energy  in  his 
preaching. 

"  Being  restrained  from  writing,  I  could  not  preach  in  the 
afternoon,  though  much  solicited  thereto.  But  I  read  prayers 
to  the  poor  prisoners ;  being  willing  to  let  the  first  act  of  my 
ministerial  office  be  an  act  of  charity.  The  next  morning, 
waiting  upon  God  in  prayer,  to  know  what  he  would  have  me 
to  do,  these  words,  'Speak  out,  Paul,''  came  with  great 
power  to  my  soul.  Immediately  my  heart  was  enlarged ;  and 
I  preached  on  the  Sunday  following  to  a  very  crowded  audi- 
ence, with  as  much  freedom  as  though  I  had  been  a  preacher 
for  some  years." 


44  whitefield's    life    and   T I M E s « 

The  folio  wins?  letter  illustrates  the  truth  of  this  statement, 
and  excites  curiosity  about  the  sermon  itself. 

"  My  dear  friend, — 
"  Glory !  glory  !  glory !  be  ascribed  to  an  Almighty  Triune 
God.  Last  Sunday,  in  the  afternoon,  I  preached  my  first 
sermon  in  the  church  of  St.  Mary  De  Crypt,  where  I  was 
baptized,  and  also  first  received  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's 
Supper.  Curiosity,  as  you  may  easily  guess,  drew  a 
large  congregation  together  on  the  occasion.  The  sight,  at 
first,  a  little  awed  me ;  but  I  was  comforted  by  a  heartfelt 
sense  of  the  divine  presence,  and  soon  found  the  unspeaka- 
ble advantage  of  having  been  accustomed  to  public  speaking 
when  a  boy  at  school ;  and  of  exhorting  and  teaching  the 
prisoners,  and  poor  people  at  their  private  houses,  whilst  at 
the  University.  By  these  means  I  was  kept  from  being 
daunted  overmuch.  As  I  proceeded,  I  perceived  the  fire 
kindled,  till  at  last,  though  so  young,  and  amidst  a  crowd  of 
those  who  knew  me  in  my  infant,  childish  days,  I  trust  I  was 
enabled  to  speak  with  some  degree  of  gospel  authority.  Some 
few  mocked,  but  most,  for  the  present,  seemed  struck  ;  and  I 
have  since  heard,  that  a  complaint  had  been  made  to  the 
bishop,  that  I  drove  fifteen  mad  by  the  first  sermon.  The 
worthy  prelate,  as  I  am  informed,  wished  that  the  madness 
might  not  be  forgotten  before  next  Sunday.  Before  then,  I 
hope  my  sermon  upon  'He  that  is  in  Christ  is  a  new  creature,' 
will  be  completed.  Blessed  be  God,  I  now  find  freedom  in 
writing.     Glorious  Jesus ! 

'Unloose  my  stammering  tongue  to  tell 
Tby  love  immense,  unsearchable ! ' 

Being  thus  engaged,  I  must  hasten  to  subscribe  myself 

W.  G.» 

The  sermon  was  on  "  The  Necessity  and  Benefits  of  Re- 
ligious Society,''  from  Eccles.  iv.  9 — 12,  "  Two  are  better 
than  one,"  &c.  That  Whitefield  should  have  chosen  to 
commence  his  public  ministry  with  such  a  subject,  can  only 
be  accounted  for  by  a  reference  to  his  peculiar  circumstances. 
The  social  religion  of  the  Oxford  methodists,  and  of  the  soci- 
ety he  had  formed  in  Gloucester,  was  a  new  thing,  the  princi- 
ples of  which  required  to  be  explained  and  defended.  He 
had  to  leave,  that  week,  the  little  flock  collected  during  his 


whitefield's   life  and  times.  45 

visit.  They  were  to  be  as  sheep  without  a  shepherd  ;  and 
that  they  might  not  disperse  on  his  departure,  he  wisely  vindi- 
cated the  object  of  such  meetings,  and  removed  some  of  the 
odium  attached  to  them.  In  this  point  of  view  the  subject 
was  well  chosen,  and  quite  consistent  with  his  determination 
to  know  nothing  among  men,  save  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  cru- 
cified. The  sermon  will  be  found  in  the  fifth  volume  of  his 
works  ;  but  as  it  is  not  printed  from  his  own  manuscript,  it 
would  be  unfair  to  quote  from  it  any  specimens  of  his  style. 
And  yet,  even  in  its  present  form,  it  breathes,  in  no  ordinary 
degree,  that  freshness  and  warmth  which  characterize  all  his 
writings.  It  is  not  rolled  from  that  "  secret  place  of  thunder" 
which  the  foregoing  letters  disclose  in  his  bosom,  and  which 
afterward  pealed  like  the  cloud  on  Sinai ;  but  it  contains 
earnests  of  his  future  energy. 

It  is  not  generally  known,  and  this  is  not  the  place  to  ex- 
plain it,  but  it  is  the  fact,  that  whilst  Whitefield  never  lost 
sight  of  his  ordination  vows,  his  views  of  the  form  of  episco- 
pal ordination  underwent  such  a  change,  that  he  declared  to 
Ralph  Erskine,  of  his  own  accord,  "  I  knew  of  no  other  way 
then  ;  but  I  would  not  have  it  in  that  way  again  for  a  thou- 
sand worlds."  The  letter  containing  this  acknowledgment, 
will  be  found  in  the  Scotch  part  of  his  history. 

Perhaps  no  mind,  since  the  apostolic  age,  has  been  more 
deeply  affected,  or  suitably  exercised,  by  "  the  laying  on  of 
hands,"  than  Whitefield's  was.  A  supernatural  unction  from 
the  Holy  One,  could  hardly  have  produced  greater  moral 
effects.  That  high  sense  of  responsibility,  that  singleness  of 
heart,  that  entire  and  intense  devotedness  of  soul,  body,  and 
spirit,  which  characterized  the  first  ambassadors  of  Christ, 
seems  revived  in  him.  Accordingly,  after  reading  the  narra- 
tive of  his  ordination,  we  naturally  expect  from  Whitefield  a 
sort  of  apostolic  career.  This  would  be  anticipated  were  we 
utterly  ignorant  of  the  result.  After  witnessing  at  the  altar,  a 
spirit  wound  up  to  the  highest  pitch  of  ardour,  throbbing  and 
thrilling  with  strong  emotions,  and,  like  a  renovated  eagle, 
impatient  to  burst  off,  we  naturally  look  for  a  corresponding 
swiftness  of  flight  and  width  of  sweep ;  and  feel  that  we  shall 
not  be  surprised  by  any  thing  which  follows.  His  unbosom- 
ings  of  himself  disclose  in  his  heart  a  "  secret  place  of  thun- 
der," and  "  a  fountain  of  tears,"  from  which  we  expect  alter- 
nate bursts  of  terror  and  tenderness — bolts  of  Sinai  and  dew 
of  Hermon  ;  and  we  shall  not  be  disappointed.     Agreeably  to 


4G  whitefield's  life  and   times. 

his  engagement  with  Sir  John  Philips,  Whitefield  returned  to 
Oxford,  and  took  out  his  bachelor's  degree.  During  his  resi- 
dence, he  resumed  the  care  of  the  methodist  society,  and  of 
the  poor.  His  stay  at  Oxford  was,  however,  but  short.  He 
received  and  accepted  an  invitation  to  officiate  for  a  time  in 
the  chapel  of  the  Tower  of  London.  His  first  sermon  in  the 
metropolis  was,  however,  preached  in  Bishopsgate  church. 
On  entering  the  pulpit,  his  juvenile  aspect  excited  a  general 
sneer  of  contempt ;  but  he  had  not  spoken  long,  when  the 
sneer  gave  place  to  universal  symptoms  of  wonder  and  plea- 
sure. The  sermon  stamped  his  character  at  once  ;  and  from 
that  time  his  popularity  in  London  continued  to  increase. 
During  his  stay,  which  only  extended  to  two  months,  he 
maintained  his  usual  habits  of  visiting  the  prisoners  and  the 
poor. 

About  this  time  letters  were  received  from  the  Wesleys  and 
Ingham,  then  in  Georgia.  Their  descriptions  of  the  moral 
condition  of  the  British  colonies  in  America,  affected  his  heart 
powerfully,  and  awakened  in  him  a  strong  desire  to  preach 
the  gospel  abroad.  It  was  an  undertaking  suited  to  his  en- 
ergetic and  enterprising  character  ;  and  therefore  sunk  deeply 
amongst  his  thoughts.  He  could  not,  however,  come  to  a 
final  determination  then,  and  therefore  he  returned  to  Oxford 
again.  There  Whitefield  devoted  the  chief  part  of  his  time 
to  the  study  of  Henry's  Commentary  ;  which  seems  to  have 
been  a  favourite  book  amongst  his  associates  in  the  Univer- 
sity. "God,"  says  he,  "works  by  him  (Henry)  greatly 
here."  How  highly  he  prized  his  own  copy,  may  be  judged 
from  his  gratitude  when  he  was  able  to  pay  for  it.  To  the 
friend  who  furnished  it,  he  writes,  "  Herewith  I  send  you 
seven  pounds  to  pay  for  Mr.  Henry's  Commentary.  Dear 
Esq.  Thorold  made  me  a  present  often  guineas,  so  that  now 
(for  ever  blessed  be  divine  goodness  !)  I  can  send  you  more 
than  I  thought  for."  In  a  former  letter  he  had  said,  "  I  ho;;e 
to  send  you,  in  a  short  time,  two  guineas  towards  paying  for 
Henry's  Exposition." 

The  study  of  this  invaluable  work  was  soon  interrupted  by 
an  invitation  to  officiate  for  a  short  time  at  Dummer,  in  Hamp- 
shire. This  was  a  very  different  sphere  to  any  he  had  been 
accustomed.  The  people  were  equally  poor  and  illiterate  ; 
but  he  was  soon  reconciled  to  them,  and  acknowledged  that 
during  his  stay,  he  had  "  reaped  much  spiritual  benefit." 
"While  he  continued  at  Dummer,  he  adhered  rigidly  to  his 


WHITEFIELD's     LIFE    AND     TIMES.  47 

system  of  economizing  time  ;  dividing  the  day  into  three 
equal  parts  ;  eight  hours  for  sleep  and  meals,  eight  for  public 
prayers,  catechising,  and  visiting,  and  eight  for  study  and  de- 
votional retirement. 

While  thus  occupied  in  obscurity,  he  was  not  forgotten  in 
London  :  a  profitable  curacy  in  the  metropolis  was  offered  to 
him  ;  but  the  chord  touched  by  the  spiritual  wants  of  Georgia, 
had  not  ceased  to  vibrate  in  his  inmost  soul.  From  the  mo- 
ment it  was  struck,  Oxford  had  no  magnet,  Hampshire  no 
charms,  the  metropolis  no  fascination,  for  the  young  evange- 
list. He  promptly  and  decidedly  declined  the  lucrative  and 
attractive  curacy,  being  intent  on  going  abroad.  And  an  op- 
portunity of  gratifying  his  truly  missionary  spirit  soon  pre- 
sented itself.  "  He  received  letters,"  says  Dr.  Gillies, 
"  containing  what  he  thought  to  be  an  invitation  to  go  to 
Georgia,  from  Mr.  John  Wesley,  whose  brother  came  over 
about  this  time  to  procure  more  labourers."  The  doctor 
might  have  said  "  letters  containing  what  toas  an  invitation  :  " 
for  although,  at  a  future  period,  it  was  insinuated  that  White- 
field  had  intruded  himself  upon  the  sphere  of  the  Wesleys  in 
America,  the  imputation  is  unwarranted.  Charles  Wesley 
both  urged  and  encouraged  him  to  leave  England.  The  fol- 
lowing extracts  are  from  a  poem  addressed  to  Whitefield  by 
Charles  Wesley,  at  the  time. 

1. 

"Servant  of  God,  the  summons  hear; 

Thy  Master  calls — arise,  obey! 
The  tokens  of  his  will  appear, 

His  providence  points  out  the  way. 
****** 

8. 
"Champion  of  God,  thy  Lord  proclaim; 

Jesus  alone  resolve  to  know  : 
Tread  down  thy  foes  in  Jesus'  name; 

Go !  conquering  and  to  conquer,  go. 

9. 

"  Through  racks  and  fires  pursue  thy  way; 

Be  mindful  of  a  dying  God; 
Finish  thy  course,  and  win  the  day; 

Look  up — and  seal  the  truth  with  blood!" 

This  impassioned  adjuration  to  proceed  to  America,  proves 
that  Whitefield  did  not  intrude  himself  on  the  mission,  nor 
run  unsent.  Had  Dr.  Southey  observed  those  lines,  he 
would  not  have  said,  that  "  Charles  did  not  invite  him  to  the 


48  whitefield's   life  and   times. 

undertaking."  The  truth  is,  both  brothers  appealed  to  him 
in  the  form  most  likely  to  win  his  consent  ;  making  the  call 
appear  to  be  from  God.  "  Only  Mr.  Delamotte  is  with  me," 
says  John,  "  until  God  shall  stir  up  the  hearts  of  some  of  his 
servants  to  come  over  and  help  us.  What  if  thou  art  the  man, 
Mr.  Whitefield  1  Do  you  ask  me  what  you  shall  have  ? 
Food  to  eat,  and  raiment  to  put  on  ;  a  house  to  lay  your  head 
in,  such  as  your  Lord  had  not ;  and  a  crown  of  glory  that 
fadeth  not  away."  This  is  a  real  invitation,  or  mockery  ; 
and  precisely  in  that  spirit  which  Whitefield  could  not  resist. 
Accordingly,  on  reading  it,  "his  heart,"  he  says,  "leaped 
within  him,  and,  as  it  were,  echoed  to  the  call."  A  concur- 
rence of  favourable  circumstances  at  the  time,  enabled  him, 
thus  promptly,  to  embrace  the  proposal,  and  embark  in  the 
undertaking.  Mr.  Kinchin,  the  minister  of  Dummer,  had 
been  chosen  dean  of  Corpus  Christi  College,  and  was  willing 
to  take  upon  him  the  charge  of  the  prisoners  at  Oxford  ; 
Harvey  undertook  to  supply  his  place  in  the  curacy  ;  and  in 
Georgia,  the  novel  sphere  of  usefulness,  and  the  warm  friend- 
ship of  Wesley,  were  equally  attractive  as  inducements  to 
leave  England.  The  resolution  thus  formed,  he  solemnly 
confirmed  by  prayer  ;  and,  that  it  might  not  be  shaken  by  his 
relations  at  Gloucester,  he  wrote  to  assure  them,  that  unless 
they  would  promise  not  to  dissuade  him,  he  would  embark 
without  seeing  them.  This  promise  they  gave  ;  but  they 
forgot  it  when  he  arrived.  His  aged  mother,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, wept  sorely ;  and  others,  as  Dr.  Southey  observes, 
who  had  no  such  cause  to  justify  their  interference,  represent- 
ed to  him  what  "  pretty  preferment  "  he  might  have  if  he 
would  stay  at  home.  But,  none  of  these  things  moved  him  : 
their  influence  was  defeated  by  his  own  prayers,  and  by  the 
weight  of  the  bishop's  opinion  ;  who,  as  usual,  received  him 
like  a  father,  approved  of  his  determination,  and  expressed 
his  confidence  that  God  would  enable  him  to  do  much  good 
abroad.  From  Gloucester  he  went  to  take  leave  of  his 
friends  at  Bristol.  During  this  visit  the  mayor  appointed 
him  to  preach  before  the  corporation :  even  the  quakers 
thronged  to  hear  him.  But  the  effect  of  his  farewell  sermons 
will  be  best  told  in  his  own  words  :  "  What  shall  I  say  ? 
Methinks  it  would  be  almost  sinful  to  leave  Bristol  at  this 
critical  juncture.  The  whole  city  seems  to  be  alarmed. 
Churches  are  as  full  on  week-days  as  they  used  to  be  on 
Sundays,  and  on  Sundays  so  full,  .that  many,  very  many  are 


whitefield's    life   and    times.         49 

obliged  to  go  away  because  they  cannot  come  in.  Oh  that 
God  would  keep  me  always  humble,  and  fully  convinced  that 
I  am  nothing  without  him  ;  and  that  all  the  good  done  upon 
earth  God  himself  doth  it." — "The  word  was  sharper  than  a 
two-edged  sword  ;  the  doctrine  of  the  new-birth  made  its 
way  like  lightning  into  the  hearers'  consciences.  Sanctify  it, 
holy  Father!  to  thine  own  glory  and  thy  people's  good." 

Similar  impressions  were  made  in  Bath  and  Gloucester, 
and  unprecedented  collections  obtained  for  charitable  objects. 
His  stay,  was,  however,  short :  he  was  called  up  to  London 
to  appear  before  General  Oglethorpe,  and  the  trustees  of 
Georgia.  Having  been  accepted  by  them,  he  was  presented 
to  the  bishop  and  primate,  who  both  highly  approved  of  his 
mission.  But  his  departure  from  England  was  delayed  for 
some  months,  owing  to  the  vessel  in  which  he  was  to  sail  not 
being  ready  at  the  time  expected.  He  therefore  undertook 
to  serve,  for  awhile,  the  church  of  one  of  his  friends  at  Stone- 
house.  In  this  retirement  his  communion  with  God  was,  at 
once,  intimate  and  habitual.  Could  the  trees  of  the  wood 
speak,  he  says,  they  would  tell  what  sweet  communion  he  and 
his  Christian  brethren  had,  under  their  shade,  enjoyed  with  their 
God.  "  Sometimes  as  I  have  been  walking,"  he  continues, 
"my  soul  would  make  such  sallies,  that  I  thought  it  would  go 
out  of  the  body.  At  other  times  I  would  be  so  overpowered 
with  a  sense  of  God's  infinite  majesty,  that  I  would  be  con- 
strained to  throw  myself  prostrate  on  the  ground,  and  offer 
my  soul  as  a  blank  in  his  hands,  to  write  on  it  what  he  pleased. 
One  night  was  a  time  never  to  be  forgotten.  It  happened  to 
lighten  exceedingly.  I  had  been  expounding  to  many  people, 
and  some  being  afraid  to  go  home,  I  thought  it  my  duty  to 
accompany  them,  and  improve  the  occasion,  to  stir  them  up 
to  prepare  for  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man.  In  my  return 
to  the  parsonage,  whilst  others  were  rising  from  their  beds, 
and  frightened  almost  to  death  to  see  the  lightning  run  upon 
the  ground,  I  and  another,  a  poor  but  pious  countryman,  were 
in  the  field,  praising,  praying  to,  and  exulting  in  our  God,  and 
longing  for  that  time  when  Jesus  shall  be  revealed  from  hea- 
ven '  in  flaming  fire.'  Oh  that  my  soul  may  be  in  a  like  frame 
when  he  shall  actually  come  to  call  me !  "  He  refers  to  this 
scene  in  one  of  his  letters.  "  Honest  James  and  I  were  out 
in  the  midst  of  the  lightning,  and  never  were  more  delighted 
in  our  lives.  May  we  be  as  well  pleased  when  the  Son  of 
God  cometh  to  judgment." 

5 


50  whitefield's    life    and    times. 

He  came  glowing  from  this  mount  of  communion  to  Bristol 
again, prepared  to  preach  the  gospel  with  new  energy  ;  and  the 
people  were  prepared  to  hear  it  with  new  interest ;  for  such 
was  the  impatience  for  his  return,  that  multitudes  on  foot,  and 
some  in  coaches,  were  waiting  to  meet  him,  a  mile  from  the 
city ;  and  a  still  greater  number  welcomed  him,  as  he  passed 
along  the  streets.  And  if  the  city  was  alarmed  during  his 
former  visit,  it  was  now  electrified  :  persons  of  all  ranks  and 
denominations  crowded  to  hear  him  ;  and  such  was  the  pres- 
sure in  every  church,  that  he  could  hardly  make  his  way  to  the 
reading  desk.  "  Some  hung  upon  the  rails  of  the  organ  loft, 
others  climbed  upon  the  leads  of  the  church,  and  altogether 
made  the  church  so  hot  with  their  breath,  that  the  steam  would 
fall  from  the  pillars  like  drops  of  rain."  AVhen  he  preached 
his  farewell  sermon,  and  said  to  the  people  that  perhaps  they 
might  "  see  his  face  no  more,"  high  and  low,  young  and  old, 
burst  into  tears.  Multitudes  followed  him  home  with  tears, 
and  many  with  entreaties  that  he  would  remain  in  England  ; 
but  he  was  firm  to  his  purpose,  and  merely  consented  to 
spend  the  next  day  in  speaking  with  those  who  had  been  awa- 
kened under  his  ministry.  This  he  did  from  seven  in  the 
morning  until  midnight,  when  he  stole  away  secretly  to  avoid 
the  parade  of  a  public  escort. 

After  some  brief  intermediate  visits,  he  arrived  again  in 
London.  Here  invitations  to  preach  and  administer  the  sa- 
crament poured  in  upon  him  from  so  many  churches,  and 
were  so  promptly  accepted  by  him,  that  his  friends  were  afraid 
for  his  health  ;  the  crowds  at  each  church  being  so  over- 
whelming". But  his  answer  was,  "I  find  by  experience  that 
the  more  I  do,  the  more  I  may  do,  for  God."  This  was  said 
when  he  was  in  the  habit  of  preaching  four  times  on  the  Sab- 
bath, and  had  often  to  walk  ten  or  twelve  miles  in  going  from 
one  church  to  another,  and  to  preach  five  times  in  the  week 
besides.  Such  unprecedented  labours  might  well  be,  as  they 
were,  called  "  mighty  deeds  "  by  the  newspapers  ;  but,  this 
kind  of  notice  hurt  his  feelings.  In  a  letter  to  a  friend  he 
expresses  himself  on  the  subjest  thus:  "I  suppose  you  have 
heard  of  my  mighty  deeds,  falsely  so  called  by  the  newspa- 
pers ;  for  I  find  some  back-friend  has  published  abroad  my 
preaching  four  times  in  a  day ;  but  I  beseech  Mr.  Raikes,  the 
printer,  never  to  put  me  in  bis  news  again  upon  any  such  ac- 
count, for  it  is  quite  contrary  to  my  inclinations  and  positive 
orders."     To  his  friends,  however,  he  was  not  reserved  in 


whitefield's    life    and    times.  51 

communicating  either  the  extent  of  his  labours,  or  the  symp- 
toms of  their  success.  In  another  letter  to  the  same  person 
he  writes,  "  Last  week,  save  one,  I  preached  ten  times  in  dif- 
ferent churches  ;  and  the  last  week,  seven  ;  and  yesterday 
four  times,  and  read  prayers  twice,  though  1  slept  not  an  hour 
the  night  before,  which  was  spent  in  religious  conversation, 
&c.  God  still  works  more  and  more  by  my  unworthy  minis- 
try. Many  youths  here  sincerely  love  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ; 
and  thousands,  I  hope,  are  quickened,  strengthened,  and  con- 
firmed by  the  word  preached.  Last  Sunday,  (in  St.  Dun- 
Stan's,)  at  six  in  the  morning,  when  I  gave  my  farewell,  the 
whole  church  was  drowned  in  tears  :  they  wept  and  cried 
aloud,  as  a  mother  weepeth  for  her  first-born.  Since  that, 
there  is  no  end  of  persons  coming  and  weeping,  telling  me 
what  God  has  done  for  their  souls  :  others  again  beg  little 
books,  and  desire  me  to  write  their  names  in  them.  The 
time  would  fail  me,  were  I  to  relate  how  many  have  been 
awakened,  and  how  many  pray  for  me.  The  great  day  wdl 
discover  all!"  This  will  be  more  minutely  detailed  in  the 
next  chapter. 

Having  thus  traced  the  amazing  effects  of  Whitefield's  first 
sermons,  it  will  now  be  interesting  to  examine  their  general 
character,  and  to  ascertain  what  were  the  truths  which  thus 
arrested  and  aroused  the  public  mind.  Three  of  these 
successful  sermons  can,  happily,  be  identified  with  these 
"  times  of  refreshing  ;  "  and  they  may  be  depended  on,  as 
specimens  of  both  the  letter  and  the  spirit  of  his  preaching, 
because  they  were  printed  from  his  own  manuscripts  :  that 
"  On  Early  Piety;"  that  "On  Regeneration;"  and  that 
"  On  Intercession."  Whoever  will  read  these  appeals,  real- 
izing the  circumstances  under  which  they  were  made,  will 
hardly  wonder  at  the  effect  produced  by  them  ;  the  topics  of 
the  second  and  third,  and  the  tone  of  all  the  three,  are  so  dif- 
ferent from  the  matter  and  manner  of  sermonizing,  to  which 
the  public  had  been  long  accustomed.  They  do  not  surprise 
us  at  all ;  because,  happily,  neither  the  topics  nor  the  tone  of 
them  are  "strange  things  to  our  ears."  Both  were,  however, 
novelties,  even  in  the  metropolis,  at  that  time.  When — 
where  had  an  appeal  like  the  following  been  made  in  London? 
"I  beseech  you,  in  love  and  compassion,  to  come  to  Jesus. 
Indeed,  all  I  say  is  in  love  to  your  souls.  And  if  I  could  be 
but  an  instrument  of  bringing  you  to  Jesus,  I  should  not  envy 
but  rejoice  in  your  happiness,  however  much  you  were  exalt- 


52  whitefield's    life    and    times. 

ed.  If  I  was  to  make  up  the  last  of  the  train  of  the  compan- 
ions of  the  hlessed  Jesus,  it  would  rejoice  me  to  see  you 
above  me  in  glory.  I  would  willingly  go  to  prison  or  to  death 
for  you,  so  I  could  but  bring  one  soul  from  the  devil's  strong 
holds,  into  the  salvation  which  is  by  Christ  Jesus.  Come 
then  to  Christ,  every  one  that  hears  me  this  night.  Come, 
come,  my  guilty  brethren  :  I  beseech  you  for  your  immortal 
souls'  sake,  for  Christ's  sake,  come  to  Christ!  Methinks  I 
could  speak  till  midnight  unto  you  ;  I  am  full  of  love  towards 
you.  Would  you  have  me  go  and  tell  my  Master,  that  you 
will  not  come,  and  that  I  have  spent  my  strength  in  vain  1  I 
cannot  bear  to  carry  such  a  message  to  him  !  I  would  not,  in- 
deed I  would  not,  be  a  swift  witness  against  you  at  the  great 
day  of  account :  but  if  you  will  refuse  these  gracious  invita- 
tions, I  must  do  it." 

In  this  spirit  (not  very  prevalent  even  now)  Whitefield  be- 
gan his  ministry.  And  there  is  a  fascination  as  well  as  fer- 
vour in  some  of  his  early  sermons.  How  bold  and  beauti- 
ful is  the  peroration  of  that  on  Intercession!  Referring  to  the 
holy  impatience  of  "  the  souls  under  the  altar,"  for  the  coming 
of  the  kingdom  of  God,  he  exclaims,  "And  shall  not  we  who 
are  on  earth,  be  often  exercised  in  this  divine  employ  with 
the  glorious  company  of  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect? 
Since  our  happiness  is  so  much  to  consist  in  the  communion 
of  saints,  in  the  church  triumphant  above,  shall  we  not  fre- 
quently intercede  for  the  church  militant  below;  and  earnest- 
ly beg,  that  we  may  be  all  one?  To  provoke  you  to  this  work 
and  labour  of  love,  remember,  that  it  is  the  never-ceasing 
employment  of  the  holy  and  highly  exalted  Jesus  himself:  so 
that  he  who  is  constantly  interceding  for  others,  is  doing  that 
on  earth,  which  the  eternal  Son  of  God  is  always  doing  in 
heaven.  Imagine,  therefore,  when  you  are  lifting  up  holy 
hands  for  one  another,  that  you  see  the  heavens  opened,  and 
the  Son  of  God  in  all  his  glory,  as  the  great  High  Priest  of 
your  salvation,  pleading  for  you  the  all-sufficient  merit  of  his 
sacrifice  before  the  throne.  Join  your  intercessions  with  His! 
The  imagination  will  strengthen  your  faith,  and  excite  a  holy 
earnestness  in  your  prayers." 


* 


whitefield's    life    and    times.  53 


t 


CHAPTER  II. 

WHITEFIELD'S    INTRODUCTION    TO    LONDON. 

Whitefield's  ministry  in  London  began  at  the  Tower — an 
unlikely  quarter  for  attraction  or  effect.  The  curate  of  the 
Tower,  who  had  been  his  friend  at  college,  having  occasion 
to  officiate  in  Hampshire  for  a  season,  invited  him  to  supply 
during  his  absence.  Sir  John  Philips  also  sanctioned  the 
request,  and  joined  in  it.  Little  did  either  of  these  good 
men,  and  still  less  did  Whitefield  himself,  foresee  the  remote, 
or  even  the  immediate,  consequences  of  this  invitation.  And 
it  is  well  they  did  not !  For  had  they  foreseen  Whitefield's 
splendid  irregularities  in  Moorefield's  and  Blackheath,  or  his 
spacious  tabernacles  in  London,  or  even  his  moderate  Cal- 
vinism, they  would  not  have  countenanced  him.  He  himself, 
notwithstanding  all  his  constitutional  bravery  and  conscien- 
tious simplicity,  would  not  have  hazarded  the  experiment,  had 
he  suspected  the  result. 

How  little  he  did  so,  will  be  best  told  in  his  own  words. 
"  On  Wednesday,  August  4th,  1737,  with  fear  and  trembling 
I  obeyed  the  summons,  and  went  in  the  stage  coach  to  Lon- 
don ;  and  the  Sunday  following,  in  the  afternoon,  preached 
at  Bishopsgate  church.  As  I  went  up  the  pulpit  stairs,  almost 
all  seemed  to  sneer  at  me,  on  account  of  my  youth.  But 
they  soon  grew,  serious  in  the  time  of  my  preaching  ;  and 
after  I  came  down,  showed  me  great  tokens  of  respect,  bless- 
ed me  as  I  passed,  and  made  great  inquiry  who  I  was.  The 
question  no  one  could  answer ;  for  I  was  quite  a  stranger  : 
and,  by  passing  speedily  through  the  crowd,  returned  to  the 
Tower  without  having  my  name  discovered. 

"Here  (at  the  Tower)  I  continued  for  the  space  of  two 
months,  reading  prayers  twice  a  week,  catechising  and  preach- 
ing once,  besides  visiting  the  soldiers  in  the  infirmary  and 
barracks  daily.  I  also  read  prayers  every  evening  in  Wap- 
ping  chapel."    (It  was,  no  doubt,  in  going  between  the  Tower 

5* 


54         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

and  Wapping  chapel,  that  his  well-known  expression,  "Wap- 
ping  sinners"  was  first  forced  upon  him.)  "I  preached  at 
Ludgate  prison  every  Tuesday."  (This  also,  together  with 
his  visits  to  the  castle  at  Oxford,  will  account  for  the  frequen- 
cy of  the  forms  of  judicial  trial  and  condemnation,  in  his  ser- 
mons to  the  ungodly.)  "God  was  pleased  to  give  me  favour 
in  the  eyes  of  the  inhahitants  of  the  Tower.  The  chapel  was 
crowded  on  Lord's  days.  Religious  friends  from  various 
parts  of  the  town  attended  the  word,  and  several  young  men 
on  Lord's-day  morning,  under  serious  impressions,  came  to 
converse  with  me  on  the  new  birth." 

So  far  all  is  pleasing  ;  but  there  was  nothing  surprising 
marked  Whitefield's  first  visit  to  London.  That  it  made  no 
great  impression  on  himself,  is  evident  from  the  perfect  sim- 
plicity with  which  he  records  its  close  :  "  Having  staid  in 
London  until  Mr.  B.  came  out  of  the  country,  I  returned  to 
my  little  charge  at  Oxford,  and  waited  on  my  deaconship  ac- 
cording to  the  measure  of  grace  imparted  to  me."  Even 
when  he  was  invited  to  "a  very  profitable  curacy"  in  Lon- 
don, and  urged  to  accept  it,  he  says,  "  I  had  no  inclination  to 
accept  it.  At  Dummer  I  soon  began  to  be  as  much  delighted 
with  the  artless  conversation  of  the  poor  illiterate  people,  as  I 
had  been  formerly  with  the  company  of  my  Oxford  friends  ; 
and  frequently  learned  as  much  by  an  afternoon's  visit,  as  by 
a  week's  study." 

It  was  therefore  for  the  sake  of  Georgia  solely,  that  he 
came  back  to  London.  The  metropolis  was  to  YVhitefield, 
then,  merely  the  way  to  America.  Accordingly,  he  did  not 
seek  for  engagements,  nor  volunteer  his  services,  on  his  arri- 
val from  Oxford.  Indeed,  he  does  not  seem  to  have  contem- 
plated preaching.  "I  followed  my  usual  practice  of  reading 
and  praying  over  the  word  of  God  on  my  knees.  Sweet  was 
this  retirement  to  my  soul — but  it  was  not  of  long  continuance. 
Invitations  were  given  me  to  preach  at  several  places."  Not, 
however,  that  he  was  unwilling  to  preach.  All  I  want  to  show 
is,  that  he  had  no  designs  upon  London,  and  no  idea  of  crea- 
ting a  sensation  in  it.  lie  could  not,  however,  be  hid  long. 
His  former  visit  was  not  forgotten,  and  his  fame  in  Bristol 
had  reached  the  metropolis.  "The  stewards  and  members 
of  the  religious  societies"  found  him  out,  and  forced  him  out, 
on  behalf  of  their  charity  schools  :  a  work  which  their  suc- 
cessors carry  on,  with  great  fidelity  and  perseverance,  to  this 
hour !    I  mean  no  reflection  upon  stewards.     They  thus  call 


whitefield's    life    and    times.  55 

out  ministers,  who  would  otherwise  shrink  from  publicity ; 
and  extend  over  London  the  influence  of  talents  and  piety, 
which  must  otherwise  have  been  confined  to  a  corner.  It  is 
not  their  fault,  if  another  Whitefield  has  not  been  found  out. 
Had  there  been  another  in  the  empire  since,  the  nets  of  reli- 
gious societies  would  have  caught  him  :  and,  whenever  there 
is  another,  they  are  sure  to  bring  him  into  full  notice  and  em- 
ployment !  Whitefield  says,  with  great  simplicity,  "  The  stew- 
ards of  religious  societies  were  very  fond  of  hearing  me." 
No  wonder :  he  collected  upwards  of  a  thousand  pounds  for 
the  schools  alone  ;  "  in  those  days,"  says  Dr.  Southey,  "  a 
prodigious  sum  ;  larger  collections  being  made  than  had  ever 
before  been  known  on  like  occasions." 

Whitefield  himself  has  drawn  a  distinction  between  the 
feelings  with  which  he  accepted  invitations  from  societies, 
and  the  feelings  with  which  he  assisted  clergymen  on  the 
Sabbath.  "  I  embraced  the  invitations  to  preach  and  assist 
in  administering  the  sacrament."  "  With  great  reluctance  I 
was  prevailed  on  to  preach  a  charity  sermon  at  Wapping 
chapel."  On  both  occasions,  he  was,  however,  equally  suc- 
cessful. "  So  many  came  "  to  the  sacrament  at  Cripplegate, 
St.  Anne's  and  Foster  Lane,  "  that  sometimes  we  were 
obliged  to  consecrate  fresh  elements  twice  or  thrice,  and  the 
stewards  found  it  somewhat  difficult  to  carry  the  offerings  to 
the  communion  table."  In  like  manner,  "  more  was  collect- 
ed at  Wapping  chapel,  for  the  charity,  than  had  been  for  many 
years."  At  St.  Swithen's  also,  instead  of  ten  shillings,  as 
formerly,  "  eight  pounds  were  collected." 

This  was  too  great  a  novelty  then  to  be  concealed. 
"  Next  morning  as  I  was  at  breakfast  with  a  friend  at  the 
Tower,  I  read  in  one  of  the  newspapers  that  there  was  a 
young  gentleman  going  volunteer  to  Georgia,  had  preach- 
ed at  St.  Swithen's,  and  collected  eight  pounds  instead  often 
shillings,  three  pounds  of  which  were  in  halfpence  ;  and  that 
he  would  preach  next  Wednesday  before  the  societies,  at 
their  general  quarterly  meeting.  This  advertisement  cha- 
grined me  very  much.  I  immediately  sent  to  the  printer,  de- 
siring he  would  put  me  in  his  paper  no  more.  His  answer 
was,  that  he  was  paid  for  doing  it,  and  would  not  lose  two 
shillings  for  any  body.  By  this  means  people's  curiosity 
was  stirred  up  more  and  more.  On  Wednesday  evening 
Bow  church,  in  Cheapside,  was  crowded  exceedingly.  I 
preached  my  sermon  on  Early  Piety,  and  at  the  request  of 


56          whitefield' s    life    and    times. 

the  societies  printed  it.  Henceforward,  for  nearly  three 
months  successively,  there  was  no  end  of  people's  flocking 
to  hear  the  word  of  God.  Sometimes  constables  were  obliged 
to  be  placed  at  the  doors,  without  and  within.  One  might,  as 
it  were,  walk  upon  the  people's  heads.  Thousands  went 
away  from  the  largest  churches  for  want  of  room.  I  now 
preached  generally  nine  times  a-week.  The  people  were  all 
attention,  as  hearing  for  eternity!  The  early  sacraments  were 
exceedingly  awful  !  Oh  how  often  at  Cripplegate,  St.  Anne's, 
and  Foster  Lane,  have  we  seen  Jesus  Christ  crucified  and 
evidently  set  forth  before  us  !  On  Sunday  mornings,  long 
before  day,  you  might  see  streets  filled  with  people  going 
to  church,  with  their  lanthorns  in  their  hands,  and  hear  them 
conversing  about  the  things  of  God." 

By  thus  specifying  the  spot  where  Whitefield  preached  his 
first  published  sermon,  Bow  church  will  be  reconsecrated,  in 
the  estimation  of  many,  and  Bow  bells  sound  more  sweetly. 
Such  is  the  force  of  association.  Its  laws,  like  those  of  na- 
ture, can  neither  be  set  aside  nor  weakened.  Only  hallowed 
men  can  make  hallowed  ground  ;  and  no  minister  becomes 
hallowed  to  posterity,  but  "  he  that  winneth  souls."  Accord- 
ingly, Bow  bells  remind  us  of  no  one  but  Whitefield.  His 
one  sermon  invests  that  church  with  more  sacredness  than  its 
consecration,  and  with  more  interest  than  the  whole  series  of 
its  corporation  sermons. 

There  is  neither  venom  nor  vapouring  in  this  remark. 
Visitors  from  the  country,  and  from  America,  pause  even  in 
Cheapside  to  gaze  at  the  spire  under  which  George  White- 
field  preached.  They  remember  no  one  else.  Why?  Be- 
cause no  one  else  has  "  so  preached"  there,  "  that  many  be- 
lieved." Thus  it  is  only  the  salvation  of  immortal  souls  that 
stamps  religious  immortality  upon  "  solemn  temples."  Ac- 
cordingly, not  all  the  talent  and  piety  which  graced  the  pulpit 
at  Whitehall  during  the  Protectorate,  nor  all  the  rank  which 
has  been  in  it  and  around  it  since,  can  awaken  one  spiritual 
emotion  or  recollection.  Even  Baxter,  Owen,  and  Howe, 
can  hardly  be  realized  there,  as  ministers  of  the  glorious  gos- 
pel. A  barn,  where  either  of  them  had  preached  Christ  to 
the  poor  and  the  perishing,  would  make  our  hearts  burn  with- 
in us,  but  in  the  chapel-royal  they  are  remembered  only  as 
great  men.  Had  Simeon  of  Cambridge,  that  "  Paul  the 
aged,"  preached  there  but  once,  before  singing  his  Nunc 
duniitis,  he  would  have  been  more  remembered  by  posterity, 


WHITE  FIELD'S     LIFE     AND     TIMES.  57 

than  all  his  late  predecessors  put  together.  It  is  utterly  in 
vain  to  sneer  or  reason  against  this  law  of  association.  No- 
thing gains  or  retains  a  hallowed  hold  upon  the  sympathies  of 
the  pious  but  usefulness.  •Mere  talent  and  heartless  ortho- 
doxy can  no  more  endear  or  dignify  a  church  now,  than  relics 
from  Rome  or  Jerusalem. 

But,  to  return.  Whitefield  had  soon  to  pay  the  usual  price 
of  popularity.  "  As  my  popularity  and  usefulness  increased, 
opposition  increased  proportionally.  At  first,  many  of  the 
clergy  were  my  hearers  and  admirers  ;  but  some  soon  grew 
angry,  and  complaints  were  made  that  there  was  no  room  for 
the  parishioners,  and  that  the  pews  were  spoiled.  Some  call- 
ed me  a  spiritual  pickpocket,  and  others  thought  I  made  use 
of  a  charm  to  get  the  people's  money.  A  report  was  spread 
abroad  that  the  bishop  of  London,  upon  the  complaint  of  the 
clergy,  intended  to  silence  me.  I  immediately  waited  upon 
his  lordship,  and  inquired  whether  any  complaint  of  this  na- 
ture had  been  lodged  against  me.  He  answered,  No.  I 
asked  his  lordship  whether  any  objection  could  be  made 
against  my  doctrine  1  He  said,  '  No :  for  he  knew  a  clergy- 
man who  heard  me  preach  a  plain  scriptural  sermon.'  I 
asked  his  lordship  whether  he  would  grant  me  a  license'?  He 
said, '  I  needed  none,  as  I  was  going  to  Georgia.'  I  replied, 
'  Then  your  lordship  would  not  forbid  me.'  He  gave  me  a 
satisfactory  answer,  and  I  took  my  leave." 

Why  has  Dr.  Southey  stripped  the  bishop's  courtesy  of  all 
its  grace  1  He  says  of  the  bishop,  "  Evidently  he  thought 
this  (Georgia)  a  happy  destination  for  one  whose  fervent  spirit 
was  likely  to  lead  him  into  extravagances  of  doctrine  as  well 
as  of  life."  This  is  no  compliment  to  his  lordship's  wisdom, 
whatever  it  be  to  his  policy.  Even  his  policy  was  bad, 
if  this  be  true  ;  for  what  could  be  worse  in  principle  or  policy, 
than  letting  loose  upon  an  infant  colony  an  extravagant  chap- 
lain? Thus  Dr.  Southey  has  imputed  to  the  bishop,  unwit- 
tingly, a  heartless,  if  not  reckless,  indifference  to  the  religious 
interests  of  Georgia;  for  if  Whitefield  was  dangerous  even 
in  London,  where  he  could  easily  be  counteracted,  if  not  con- 
trolled, how  much  more  dangerous  he  must  have  been  in  a 
distant  colony!  This  inference  is  inevitable,  if  there  was  any 
real  danger  to  be  apprehended  from  Whitefield's  doctrine  or 
example.  It  is  easy  to  say,  that  "  the  whole  force  of  his  en- 
thusiasm might  safely  expend  itself "  in  Georgia;  but  Dr. 
Southey  should  not  have  said  this ;  for  he  had  just  said  be- 


58  whitefield's    life    and    times. 

fore,  of  the  disorders  raised  in  the  colony,  that  Charles  Wes- 
ley had,  "  in  truth,  been  the  occasion  of  them,  by  his  injudi- 
cious zeal."  But  enough  of  this,  Southey  is  no  doubt  right 
in  saying  that  the  bishop  was  glatl,  and  that  some  of  the 
clergy  rejoiced  "  in  Whitefield's  departure,"  as  a  happy  rid- 
dance. He  guessed  well,  although  he  reasons  ill,  in  this  in- 
stance. Accordingly,  the  bishop's  "  satisfactory  answer  "  to 
"Whitefield  did  not  prevent  some  of  the  London  clergy  from 
shutting  their  pulpits  against  him.  "  Soon  after  this,  two 
clergymen  sent  for  me,  and  told  me  they  would  not  let  me 
preach  in  their  pulpits  any  more,  unless  I  renounced  that 
part  of  the  preface  of  my  sermon  on  Regeneration,  wherein  I 
wished  that  my  brethren  would  entertain  their  auditories  of- 
tener  with  discourses  on  the  new  birth.  This  I  had  not  free- 
dom to  do — and  so  they  continued  my  opposers." 

"  What,  I  believe,  irritated  some  of  my  enemies  the  more, 
was  my  free  conversation  with  many  of  the  serious  dissenters, 
who  invited  me  to  their  houses,  and  told  me  repeatedly,  '  that 
if  the  doctrine  of  the  new  birth  and  justification  by  faith  was 
preached  powerfully  in  the  church,  there  would  be  but  few 
dissenters  in  England.'  Who  the  dissenters  were  that  said 
this  cannot  now  be  ascertained;  but,  certainly,  they  were  not 
serious  dissenters,  nor  sound  reasoners,  however  serious  they 
may  have  been  as  Christians  ;  for  wherever  these  doctrines 
are  powerfully  preached  in  the  church,  there  are  many  dissen- 
ters. The  progress  of  both  dissent  and  methodism  keeps 
pace  with  the  progress  of  evangelical  sentiment  in  the  church, 
and  ever  must  do  whilst  they  continue  evangelical.  White- 
field  was,  however,  simple  enough  to  believe  what  he  wished, 
and  honest  enough  to  act  accordingly,  in  this  instance.  "  My 
practice  in  visiting  and  associating  with  (these  dissenters)  I 
thought  was  quite  agreeable  to  the  word  of  God.  Their  con- 
versation was  savoury,  and  I  judged,  ('  rightly,'  says  Dr. 
Southey,)  that  the  best  way  to  bring  them  over,  was  not  by 
bigotry  and  railing,  but  by  moderation  and  love,  and  undis- 
sembled  holiness  of  life. 

"  But  these  reasons  were  of  no  avail.  One  minister  called 
me  a  pragmatical  rascal,  and  vehemently  inveighed  against 
me  and  the  whole  body  of  dissenters  together."  Dr.  Southey 
explains  the  "  serious  offence"  thus  taken  by  the  clergy,  by 
saying, — "  for  the  evils  which  puritanism  had  brought  on  this 
kingdom  were  at  that  time  neither  forgotten  nor  forgiven." 
No  thanks  to  the  Doctor  if  ever  they  should  be  so  !     He  has 


whitefield's   life   and   times.  59 

done  all  he  could  to  perpetuate  their  memory.  It  will  not, 
however,  live  long.  The  accidental  evils  of  puritanism,  like 
those  of  the  Reformation,  will  soon  be  forgiven,  and  for- 
gotten too,  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  truth  and  liberty  which 
the  puritans  bought  and  sealed  with  their  blood.  Wyclifle 
and  Baxter,  Latimer  and  Owen,  Cranmer  and  Howe,  will  be 
associated  and  enshrined  names  in  the  temple  of  Christi- 
anity, when  all  who  have  hindered  their  identification  will 
be  nameless,  or  named  only  to  be  pitied  and  wondered  at  for 
ever. 

Whitefield  found  pulpits  in  London,  until  he  embarked  for 
America.  Not  many,  indeed,  seem  to  have  been  shut  against 
him.  "I  have  been  wearied  almost  to  death,"  he  says,  "in 
preaching."  "The  nearer  the  time  of  my  embarkation  ap- 
proached, the  more  affectionate  and  eager  people  grew.  All 
ranks  gave  vent  to  their  passion.  Thousands  and  thousands 
of  prayers  were  put  up  for  me.  The  people  would  run  and 
stop  me  in  the  alleys  of  the  churches,  hug  me  in  their  arms, 
and  follow  me  with  wishful  looks.  Such  a  sacrament  I  never 
saw  before,  as  at  St.  Dunstan's.  The  tears  of  the  com- 
municants mingled  with  the  cup:  and  had  not  Jesus  given 
us  some  of  his  'new  wine,'  our  parting  would  have  been  in- 
supportable. 

"At  length,  having  preached  in  a  good  part  of  the  London 
churches,  collected  about  a  thousand  pounds  for  the  charity 
schools,  and  got  upwards  of  three  hundred  pounds  for  the 
poor  in  Georgia,  I  left  London  on  Dec.  28th,  1737,  in  the 
twenty-third  year  of  my  age,  and  went  in  the  strength  of  God, 
as  a  poor  pilgrim,  on  board  the  Whitaker." 


GO         whitefield's    life    and    times 


CHAPTER    III. 

Whitefield's  first  voyage  and  visit  to  Georgia. 

The  settlement  of  Georgia  was  begun  in  1733,  by  a  num- 
ber of  English  people,  who  were  brought  over  by  General 
Oglethorpe.  On  the  first  of  February  of  that  year,  General 
Oglethorpe  and  his  colony  entered  the  Savannah  river,  and 
the  same  night  the  tents  were  first  pitched  where  the  city  of 
Savannah  now  stands.  For  several  days  the  people  were 
employed  in  erecting  a  fortification,  and  in  felling  the  woods, 
while  the  general  marked  out  the  town.  The  first  house  was 
begun  on  the  ninth;  and  the  town,  after  the  Indian  name  of 
the  river  which  ran  by  it,  was  called  Savannah.  The  fort 
being  completed,  the  guns  mounted,  and  the  colony  put 
into  a  state  of  safety,  the  next  object  of  Oglethorpe's  at- 
tention was,  to  treat  with  the  Indians  for  a  share  of  their 
possessions. 

In  his  intercourse  with  the  Indians,  he  was  greatly  assisted 
by  an  Indian  woman,  whom  he  found  in  Savannah,  of  the 
name  of  Mary  Musgrove.  She  had  resided  among  the 
English,  in  another  part  of  the  country,  and  was  well  ac- 
quainted with  their  language.  She  was  of  great  use,  there- 
fore, to  General  Oglethorpe,  in  interpreting  what  he  said  to  the 
Indians,  and  what  they  said  to  him.  For  this  service  he  gave 
her  a  hundred  pounds  a  year. 

"Among  those  who  came  over  with  General  Oglethorpe 
was  a  man  named  Thomas  Bosomworth,  who  was  the  chap- 
lain, or  minister,  of  the  colony.  Soon  after  his  arrival  he 
married  the  above-mentioned  Indian  woman,  Mary  Musgrove. 
Unhappily,  Bosomworth  was,  at  heart,  a  bad  man,  although 
by  profession  he  was  a  minister  of  the  gospel.  He  was  dis- 
tinguished for  his  pride,  and  love  of  riches  and  influence. 
At  the  same  time,  he  was  very  artful.  Yet,  on  account  of 
his  profession,  he  was,  for  a  time,  much  respected  by  the 
Indians. 

"At  one  of  the  great  councils  of  the  Indians,  this  artful 
man  induced  some  of  the  chiefs  to  crown  Malatche,  one   of 


whitefield's    life    and    times.  61 

the  greatest  among  them,  and  to  declare  him  prince  and 
emperor  of  all  the  Creeks.  After  this  he  made  his  wife  call 
herself  the  eldest  sister  of  Malatche  ;  and  she  told  the  Indians 
that  one  of  her  grandfathers  had  been  made  king,  by  the 
Great  Spirit,  over  all  the  Creeks.  The  Indians  believed 
what  Mary  told  them  ;  for,  since  General  Oglethorpe  had  been 
so  kind  to  her,  they  had  become  very  proud  of  her.  They 
called  a  great  meeting  of  the  chiefs  together,  and  Mary  made 
them  a  long  talk.  She  told  them  that  they  had  been  injured 
by  the  whites — that  they  were  getting  away  the  lands  of  the 
Indians,  and  would  soon  drive  them  from  all  their  possessions. 
She  said,  '  We  must  assert  our  rights — -we  must  arm  our- 
selves against  them — we  must  drive  them  from  our  terri- 
tories. Let  us  call  forth  our  warriors — I  will  head  them.  Stand 
by  me,  and  the  houses  which  they  have  erected  shall  smoke 
in  ruins.' 

"  The  spirit  of  Queen  Mary  was  contagious.  Every  chief 
present  declared  himself  ready  to  defend  her  to  the  last  drop 
of  his  blood. 

"After  due  preparation,  the  warriors  were  called  forth. 
They  had  painted  themselves  afresh,  and  sharpened  anew 
their  tomahawks  for  the  battle.  The  march  was  now  com- 
menced. Queen  Mary,  attended  by  her  infamous  and  wicked 
husband,  the  real  author  of  all  their  discontent,  headed  the 
savage  throng. 

"Before  they  reached  Savannah,  their  approach  was  an- 
nounced. The  people  were  justly  alarmed — they  were  few 
in  number,  and  though  they  had  a  fortification  and  cannon, 
they  had  no  good  reason  to  hope  that  they  should  be  able  to 
ward  off  the  deadly  blow  which  was  aimed  against  them. 

"By  this  time  the  savages  were  in  sight  of  Savannah.  At 
this  critical  moment  an  Englishman,  by  the  name  of  Noble 
Jones,  a  bold  and  daring  man,  rode  forth,  with  a  few  spirited 
men  on  horseback,  to  meet  them.  As  he  approached  them, 
he  exclaimed  in  a  voice  like  thunder  :  '  Ground  your  arms  ! 
ground  your  arms  !  not  an  armed  Indian  shall  set  his  foot  in 
this  town.' 

"Awe-struck  by  his  lofty  tone,  and  perceiving  him  and  his 
companions  ready  to  dash  in  among  them,  they  paused,  and 
soon  after  laid  down  their  arms.  Bosomworth  and  his  queen 
were  now  summoned  to  march  into  the  city,  and  it  was  per- 
mitted the  chiefs  and  other  Indians  to  follow,  but  without 
their  arms. 

6 


62  whitefield's  life  and  times. 

"  On  reaching  the  parade  ground,  the  thunder  of  fifteen 
cannon  fired  at  the  same  moment,  told  them  what  they  might 
expect  should  they  persist  in  their  hostile  designs.  The  In- 
dians were  now  marched  to  the  house  of  the  president  of  the 
council,  in  Savannah.  Bosomworth  was  required  to  leave 
the  Indians  while  the  president  had  a  friendly  talk  with  them. 

"  In  his  address  to  them  he  assured  them  of  the  kindness 
of  the  English,  and  demanded  what  they  meant  by  coming 
in  this  warlike  manner. 

"  In  reply,  they  told  the  president '  that  they  heard  that  Mary 
was  to  be  sent  over  the  great  waters,  and  they  had  come  to 
learn  why  they  were  to  lose  their  queen.' 

"Finding  that  the  Indians  had  been  deceived,  and  that  Bo- 
somworth was  the  author  of  all  the  trouble — that  he  had  even 
intended  to  get  possession  of  the  magazine,  and  to  destroy 
the  whites,  the  council  directed  him  to  be  seized,  and  to  be 
thrown  into  prison. 

"  This  step  Mary  resented  with  great  spirit.  Rushing  forth 
among  the  Indians,  she  openly  cursed  General  Oglethorpe, 
although  he  had  raised  her  from  poverty  and  distress,  and  de- 
clared that  the  whole  world  should  know  that  the  ground  she 
trod  upon  was  her  own. 

"The  warlike  spirit  of  the  Indians  being  thus  likely  to  be 
renewed,  it  was  thought  advisable  to  imprison  Mary  also. 
This  was  accordingly  carried  into  effect.  At  the  same  time, 
to  appease  the  Indians,  a  sumptuous  feast  was  made  for  the 
chiefs  by  the  president,  who,  during  the  better  state  of  feeling, 
which  seemed  to  prevail,  took  occasion  to  explain  to  them  the 
wickedness  of  Bosomworth,  and  how  by  falsehood  and  cun- 
ning he  had  led  them  to  believe  that  Mary  was  really  their 
queen — a  descendant  of  one  of  their  great  chiefs.  'Brothers,' 
said  he,  *  it  is  no  such  thing.  Queen  Mary  is  no  other  than 
Mary  Musgrove,  whom  I  found  poor,  and  who  has  been  made 
the  dupe  of  the  artful  Bosomworth ;  and  you,  brothers,  the 
dupes  of  both.' 

"  The  aspect  of  things  was  now  pleasant.  The  Indians 
were  beginning  to  be  satisfied  of  the  villany  of  Bosomworth, 
and  of  the  real  character  of  Mary.  But  at  this  moment  the 
door  was  thrown  open,  and,  to  the  surprise  of  all,  Mary  burst 
into  the  room.  She  had  made  her  escape  from  prison  ;  and, 
learning  what  was  going  on,  she  rushed  forward  with  the  fury 
of  a  tigress,  exclaiming  as  she  entered,  '  Seize  your  arms  ! 
seize  your  arms  !  Remember  your  promise,  and  defend  your 
queen.' 


whitefield's   life   and   times.  63 

"The  sight  of  their  queen  seemed,  in  a  moment,  to  bring 
back  all  the  original  ardour  of  the  enterprise.  In  an  instant, 
every  chief  had  seized  his  tomahawk,  and  sprung  from  the 
ground  to  rally  at  the  call  of  their  queen. 

"At  this  moment  Captain  Jones,  who  was  present,  perceiv- 
ing the  danger  of  the  president,  and  the  other  whites,  drew 
his  sword  and  demanded  peace.  The  majesty  of  his  counte- 
nance, the  fire  of  his  eye,  and  the  glittering  of  his  sword,  told 
Queen  Mary  what  she  might  expect,  should  she  attempt  to 
raise  any  higher  the  feverish  spirit  of  her  subjects. 

"The  Indians  cast  an  eye  towards  Mary,  as  if  to  inquire 
what  they  should  do.  Her  countenance  fell.  Perceiving 
his  advantage,  Captain  Jones  stepped  forward,  and  in  the  pre- 
sence of  the  Indians,  standing  round,  again  conducted  Mary 
back  to  prison. 

"A  short  imprisonment  so  far  humbled  both  Bosom  worth 
and  Mary,  that  each  wrote  a  letter,  in  which  they  confessed 
the  wrong  they  had  done,  and  promised,  if  released,  that  they 
would  conduct  themselves  with  more  propriety  in  future. 
The  people  kindly  forgave  both,  and  they  left  the  city. 

"  But  they  did  not  perform  their  promise.  Again  Bosom- 
worth  tried  to  make  Mary  queen,  and  to  get  possession  of 
three  large  islands,  called  Ossalaw,  Sapelo,  and  St.  Catha- 
rine's. He  pretended  that  they  had  been  given  to  him  by  the 
Indians.  Being,  however,  unable  to  make  himself  master  of 
them,  he  went  over  to  England  with  Mary,  where  he  institut- 
ed a  law-suit  for  their  recovery.  At  length,  having  obtained 
St.  Catharine's  Island  by  a  judgment  of  the  court,  he  return- 
ed with  his  wife,  and  took  up  his  residence  upon  that  island. 
There  Mary  died.  Some  time  after,  Bosomworth  married 
one  of  his  own  servants,  who  did  not  survive  him.  At  length, 
he  finished  his  own  inglorious  life,  and  was  buried  between 
his  two  wives,  upon  the  island  which  had  given  him  so  much 
trouble." 

Such  (it  is  said  in  America)  was  the  first  specimen  of  a 
chaplain,  which  the  Indians  and  colonists  at  Savannah  had 
before  their  eyes.  No  wonder  Oglethorpe  and  the  trustees 
of  Georgia  turned  their  eyes  upon  another  kind  of  men!  The 
Oxford  methodists  were,  accordingly,  fixed  upon,  "as  men 
who  appeared  to  possess  the  habits  and  qualities  requisite  " 
for  preaching  the  gospel  to  settlers  and  the  Indians.  Dr. 
Butler,  of  Corpus  Christi  College,  sounded  the  Wesleys  on 
the  subject,  and  introduced  them  to  Oglethorpe.     This  was 


64  whitefield's   life   and  times. 

going  to  the  opposite  extreme.  Accordingly,  on  their  arrival 
in  the  colony,  they  soon  proved  their  unfitness  for  the  reli- 
gious management  of  an  infant  settlement.  They  certainly 
meant  well,  and  were  shamefully  treated:  but  it  is  equally 
true,  that  they  were  both  very  imprudent.  Dr.  Southey, 
however,  implicates  Charles  Wesley  too  deeply  in  the  muti- 
nies of  the  period  :  for  he  ought  to  have  known,  that  Ogle- 
thorpe acquitted  him  of  this  charge,  and  offered  to  build  him 
a  house,  and  to  allow  him  a  deputy,  if  he  would  return  to  the 
colony.  This  is  just  as  true,  and  was  as  easily  ascertained, 
as  that  Oglethorpe,  who  had  been  "  brutal  enough  to  give 
away  from  under"  Charles,  the  old  bedstead  on  which  he  lay 
in  a  fever,  afterwards  "  embraced  and  kissed  him  with  cordial 
affection."  The  doctor  even  says,  "  that  the  explanation 
then  given  so  satisfied  the  general,  that  his  feelings  were  en- 
tirely changed  :  all  his  old  love  and  confidence  returned  :  " 
and  yet,  he  says  that  Charles  "  had  in  truth  been  the  occasion 
of  the  disorders  by  his  injudicious  zeal."  On  the  other  hand, 
however,  Watson,  has  admitted  into  his  answer  to  Southey,  a 
vindication  of  Charles  Wesley,  from  the  pen  of  his  daughter, 
somewhat  inconsistent  with  the  acknowledgment,  that  the 
Wesleys  "  held  the  reins  of  ecclesiastical  discipline  with  a 
tightness  unsuitable  to  infant  colonists  especially,  and  which 
tended  to  provoke  resistance." 

But  the  character  of  neither  brother  should  be  judged  of 
from  their  career  in  Georgia.  I  quite  agree  with  Watson, 
that  "  their  integrity  of  heart,  and  the  purity  of  their  intentions, 
came  forth  without  a  stain  : "  for  although  I  have  heard  re- 
ports, and  been  told  of  letters,  which  implicate  John  in  more 
than  imprudence,  I  have  found  no  one  to  authenticate  the  re- 
ports, or  to  produce  the  letters.  Besides,  Whitefield  returned 
from  Georgia  unchanged  in  his  love  or  esteem  for  Wesley : 
a  conclusive  proof  that  he  found  nothing  to  justify  the  fama 
clamosa.  Nothing  in  his  journals,  letters,  or  diary,  indicates 
a  suspicion.  (I  have  learned,  since  I  wrote  this  paragraph, 
that  Wesley's  private  journals  of  the  Causton  affair  have  been 
discovered  by  the  Conference  ;  and  that  they  justify  my 
argument.) 

It  was  to  this  new  colony,  then  in  danger  from  the  Spa- 
niards, and  irritated  by  the  Wesleys,  that  Whitefield  went 
forth  so  cheerfully,  although  solemnly.  He  does  not,  in- 
deed, say  that  he  knew  the  distracted  state  of  the  people  : 
but  it  is  quite  evident  from  the  way  in  which  he  prepared  for 


whitefield's   life  and  times.  65 

his  work,  and  from  the  spirit  in  which  he  began  his  labours, 
that  Oglethorpe,  or  some  of  the  trustees,  had  apprized  him  of 
the  rocks  on  which  his  predecessors  had  split.  Both  his 
hopes  and  his  fears  prove  that  he  was  not  ignorant  of  what  he 
had  to  do,  nor  of  what  he  had  to  undo.  All  his  conduct,  and 
especially  his  utter  disregard  of  Wesley's  oracular  '■'■Let  him 
return  to  London"  shows  clearly  that  his  heart  was  set  upon 
healing  the  breaches  in  the  colony ;  that  thus  the  benevolent 
and  pure  designs  of  its  founders  might  be  carried  into  effect. 

In  this  spirit,  and  for  this  purpose,  Whitefield  embarked 
for  Georgia,  in  the  latter  end  of  December,  1737.  It  was, 
however,  the  end  of  January,  1738,  before  the  vessel  was 
fairly  on  her  way  ;  owing  to  contrary  winds.  His  reception 
on  board  was,  as  might  be  expected  from  a  motley  group  of 
soldiers  and  sailors,  of  a  mixed  kind.  The  captains  of  both, 
with  the  surgeon  and  cadet,  treated  him,  for  a  time,  as  an  im- 
postor ;  and,  to  mark  their  contempt  for  him,  turned  the  ves- 
sel into  a  gambling-house,  during  the  whole  first  Sabbath. 
The  fact  is,  he  had  begun,  the  day  before,  to  read  prayers  on 
deck  :  but  he  added  to  this  a  short  sermon  on  the  text,  "  I  am 
determined  to  know  nothing  among  you,  save  Jesus  Christ, 
and  him  crucified."  This  gave  offence.  The  officers  and 
soldiers  "  attended  with  decency  and  reverence  "  to  the  pray- 
ers :  but  when  he  told  them  in  the  sermon  what  his  "future 
conduct  would  be,"  they  were  indignant ;  and,  to  prove  it, 
began  the  Sabbath  with  the  hautboy,  and  spent  it  in  card- 
playing  and  blasphemy. 

He  seems  to  have  foreseen  this  burst  of  opposition  ;  and 
he  wisely  escaped  from  it.  "  Sunday,  Jan.  1.  Rose  early  in 
the  morning,  and  retired  to  an  adjacent  hill  with  my  friends  to 
prayer."  That  day,  however,  he  also  preached  three  times 
(once  extempore ;  for  he  had  only  taken  two  sermons  with 
him)  in  the  church  at  Gravesend.  This  was  not  cowardice. 
He  himself  was  unwilling  to  leave  his  M  own  flock  in  the  ship," 
and  he  did  not  leave  them  without  reading  prayers  again  on 
the  Saturday  evening.  He  yielded,  however,  to  the  urgency 
of  his  friends  ;  and  very  properly. 

This  does  not  appear  from  his  journals,  because  he  would 
not  leave  a  reflection  upon  a  crew  which  afterwards  treated 
him  respectfully:  but  it  appears  from  his  private  diary.  Dr. 
Gillies  says  truly,  "  It  is  worth  while  to  observe,  with  what 
prudence  he  was  helped  to  behave,  and  how  God  was  pleased 
to  bless  his  patient  and  persevering  endeavours  to  do  good." 

6* 


66  whitefield's   life   and   times. 

This  retreat  from  a  premeditated  storm,  was  one  of  his  pru- 
dent steps. 

In  the  same  spirit,  he  hegan  his  usual  work  on  hoard,  on 
Monday,  without  upbraiding.  Wherever  there  was  sickness 
in  the  ship,  he  visited,  counselled,  and  prayed.  When  he 
could  not  assemble  the  crew  to  prayers  on  deck,  he  read 
prayers  and  expounded  any  where  between  decks.  \\  hen 
the  soldiers  could  not  or  would  not  attend,  he  devoted  himself 
to  the  religious  education  of  their  children.  When  he  could 
say  nothing  to  the  swearing  officers,  he  turned  a  look  upon 
them  which  they  understood.  Thus  he  was  never  idle,  nor 
unamiable. 

Whilst  thus  employed,  a  heavy  gale  sprung  up  at  the  Nore, 
which  created  some  alarm  and  more  sickness.  Even  the  offi- 
cers felt  thankful  that  the  vessel  was  at  the  Nore,  and  not  in 
the  Downs,  (for  she  had  "  dragged  her  anchor  two  miles,") 
which  they  had  been  trying  to  reach.  Accordingly,  they  re- 
quested Whitefield  to  read  prayers  to  them  in  the  grand  cabin 
on  Sunday,  in  addition  to  the  service  on  deck.  ^N  hat  a  dif- 
ferent aspect  the  ship  wore  on  the  preceding  Sabbath  !  But  he 
had  endeared  himself  during  the  week  by  courtesy  and  kind- 
ness, and  had  spent  the  whole  morning  of  this  Sabbath  in  go- 
ing from  hammock  to  hammock  amongst  the  sea-sick,  and  mi- 
nistering sage-tea  to  them,  as  well  as  good  advice. 

He  availed  himself  of  this  favourable  turn  of  feeling,  to  ob- 
tain for  himself  more  accommodation  in  the  ship  ;  for,  hither- 
to, he  had  no  place  of  retirement  for  prayer  or  study.  He 
seems,  however,  to  have  been  somewhat  afraid  of  a  refusal  ; 
for  he  offered  the  captain  money  for  the  occasional  use  of  his 
cabin.  This  was  not  in  good  taste,  but  the  captain  overlooked 
that,  and  politely  granted  his  request. 

The  military  captain  also  (whom  Whitefield  dreaded  most) 
sent  him  an  invitation  to  take  coffee  in  his  cabin.  He  went ; 
and  took  the  opportunity  of  saving  to  him,  "  that  he  thought  it 
a  little  odd  to  pray  and  preach  to  the  servants,  and  not  to  the 
master  !"  This' good-humoured  hint  he  followed  up  by  propos- 
ing to  read  "  a  collect  now  and  then  to  him  and  the  other 
gentlemen,  in  the  great  cabin."  At  first  the  captain  shook  his 
head  ;  but,  after  a  pause,  he  said,  "  I  think  we  may,  when  we 
have  nothing  else  to  do." 

When  the  ship  reached  Margate,  another  storm  arose  at 
midnight,  accompanied  by  vivid  lightning,  which  seemed  to  set 
the  sea  on  fire.     The  long-boat  was  lost,  and  many  of  the  sol- 


whitefield's   life  and   times.  07 

diers  taken  very  ill.  Whitefield  became,  literally,  the  nurse, 
of  his  "  red-coated  parishioners,"  as  he  called  the  soldiers. 
He  superintended  the  making  of  sage-tea  and  broth,  and  dis- 
tributed them  amongst  the  sick  with  his  own  hands. 

\\  bilst  thus  employed  he  gained  the  esteem  of  the  surgeon  ; 
and  so  ingratiated  himself  with  the  wives  of  the  soldiers,  that 
fifteen  of  them  agreed  to  meet,  to  hear  him  explain  the  Cate- 
chism. Even  the  captains  again  requested  him  to  read  prayers 
in  the  state  cabin,  and  expressed  "  their  approbation"  of  his 
conduct. 

Whilst  the  vessel  was  lying  in  the  Downs,  he  ventured  one 
day  to  remove  "  The  Independent  Whig  "  from  the  captain's 
pillow,  and  replace  it  with  a  book  called  "  The  Self-Deceiver." 
Next  morning  the  captaincame  to  him  smiling,  and  asked  who 
had  made  the  exchange?  Whitefield  confessed  the  charge, 
and  begged  his  acceptance  of  the  book.  It  produced  a  visible 
change.  The  military  captain  also,  without  being  again  asked, 
requested  that  "  they  might  have  public  service  and  expound- 
ing twice  a  day  in  the  great  cabin." 

In  this  manner,  with  occasional  preaching  on  shore, he  spent 
the  month,  during  which  the  ship  was  waiting  for  a  fair  wind  ; 
and  in  that  time,  not  a  few  of  both  the  soldiers  and  sailors  be- 
came very  serious,  and  the  ship's  company  at  large  orderly. 
At  length  the  wind  changed,  and  sailing  orders  were  given. 
In  the  hurry  of  this  movement,  Whitefield  fell  down  the  stairs 
of  the  steerage:  but  received  "little  or  no  hurt."  In  a  few 
days  after,  the  vessel  had  a  very  narrow  escape.  "  The  men 
upon  deck  not  keeping  a  good  look-out,  an  East  Indiaman 
ran  so  very  near,  that  had  not  Captain  Whiting  been  upon  deck, 
and  beseeched  them  to  tack  about,  the  ships  must  inevitably 
have  split  one  against  another." 

Altogether  it  was  a  perilous  voyage  to  Gibraltar :  but  al- 
though the  scene  was  new,  and  the  labour  trying,  Whitefield's 
patience  never  failed.  The  following  sketch  is  very  charac- 
teristic. "  Feb.  14th.  May  I  never  forget  this  day's  mercies, 
since  the  Lord  has  dealt  so  lovingly  with  me !  About  twelve 
at  night  a  fresh  gale  arose,  which  increased  so  very  much  by 
four  in  the  morning,  that  the  waves  raged  horribly  indeed,  and 
broke  in  like  a  great  river  on  many  of  the  poor  soldiers,  who 
lay  near  the  main  hatchway.  Friend  Habersham  and  I  knew 
nothing  of  it;  but  perceived  ourselves  very  restless,  and  could 
not  sleep  at  all.  I  arose,  and  called  on  God  for  myself  and 
all  that  sailed  with  me,  absent  friends,  and  all  mankind.  After 


68  whitefield's   life   and  times. 

this  I  went  on  deck — but  surely  a  more  noble  and  awful  sight 
my  eyes  never  beheld  ;  for  the  waves  rose  more  than  moun- 
tain high,  and  sometimes  came  on  the  quarter-deck.  I  en- 
deavoured all  the  while  to  magnify  God  for  making  his 
•  power  to  be  known  !'  And  then,  creeping  on  my  knees — for 
I  knew  not  how  else  to  go — I  went  between  decks,  and  sung 
psalms,  and  comforted  the  poor  wet  people.  After  this  I  read 
prayers  in  the  great  cabin.  Then,  I  laid  myself  across  a 
chair  reading.  But  God  was  so  good,  that  though  things 
were  tumbling,  the  ship  rocking,  persons  falling  down  around 
me,  I  was  never  more  cheerful  in  my  life.  I  also  finished  a  ser- 
mon before  I  went  to  bed,  though  in  the  midst  of  company." 

On  his  arrival  at  Gibraltar,  he  was  courteously  received 
and  hospitably  entertained  by  the  governor  first,  and  then  by 
Major  Sabine  and  General  Columbine.  Gillies  reverses  the 
order  of  this  reception.  Sabine  did  not  seek  out  Whitefield, 
until  some  days  after  he  had  visited  the  governor.  But  whilst 
all  these  attentions  gratified  him,  he  was  most  interested  by  a 
little  group  of  pious  soldiers,  who,  for  twelve  years,  had  been 
the  methodists  of  Gibraltar.  At  first,  they  had  assembled  se- 
cretly in  dens  and  caves  of  the  rock,  for  prayer  and  conversa- 
tion. The  character  and  spirit  of  the  venerable  governor, 
soon  led  them,  however,  to  apply  for  permission  to  build  a 
house  of  prayer  for  themselves.  But  instead  of  granting  this, 
he  gave  them  the  free  use  of  the  church  ;  and  there  they  sta- 
tedly met  for  worship  three  times  a  day.  They  seem  to  have 
been  non-conformists  ;  and  thus  were  called  "new  lights:" 
whilst  another  society  of  the  Scotch  church  were  called 
"dark  lanthorns." 

Besides  visiting  the  popish  chapel,  and  preaching  frequent- 
ly in  the  protestant  church,  he  attended  the  Jewish  synagogue, 
and  was  agreeably  surprised  when  one  of  the  rulers  showed 
him  into  the  chief  seat.  The  rabbi  had  heard  him  preach  the 
day  before  against  swearing,  and  now  thanked  him  for  his  ser- 
mon. Whitefield  remained  in  the  synagogue  during  the  whole 
service,  engaged,  he  says,  "in  secret  prayer,  that  the  veil 
might  be  taken  from  the  heart  of  the  Jews,  and  they  grafted 
again  into  their  own  olive  tree." 

His  success  at  Gibraltar  was  remarkable.  He  says  quaintly, 
"  Samson's  riddle  was  fulfilled  there :  out  of  the  strong  came 
forth  sweetness.  Who  more  unlikely  to  be  wrought  upon  than 
soldiers !  And  yet,  amongst  any  set  of  people  I  have  not  been 
where  God  has  made  his  power  more  known.  Many  that  were 


whitefield's   life   and   times.  00 

quite  stark  blind  have  received  their  sight ;  many  that  had 
fallen  back,  have  repented  and  turned  to  the  Lord  again  ; 
many  that  were  ashamed  to  own  Christ  openly,  have  waxen 
bold;  and  many  saints  had  their  hearts  filled  with  joy  un- 
speakable and  full  of  glory." 

When  the  journal  of  this  revival  was  first  published  in  Eng- 
land, it  called  forth  an  answer  from  some  T.  G.  even  more 
foolish  than  any  thing  Tristram  Land,  M.  A.,  had  written. 
Taking  the  words,  "  many  that  were  quite  stark  blind  have 
received  their  sight,"  literally,  he  says  with  all  gravity, — 
"  This  being  a  thing  so  seldom  heard  of,  it  seems  likely  to 
be  a  falsity ;  and,  that  he  inserted  it  here,  to  have  the  world 
think  that  God  worked  this  miracle  on  his  account!"  Straws 
show  how  the  wind  blows  ;  and,  therefore,  I  will  add  a  few 
specimens  of  this  first  commentary  on  Whitefield's  first  jour- 
nal. Because  he  had  lamented  the  want  of  the  divine  pre- 
sence on  one  occasion,  and  had  rejoiced  on  its  return,  T.  G. 
says,  "  What  he  means  will  puzzle  any  one ;  for  by  God's 
being  with  him  at  one  time,  and  not  at  another,  seems  to  infer 
as  if  he  denied  the  omnipresence  of  the  Deity!"  When 
Whitefield  says,  that  he  "  was  enlarged  in  intercession,"  T. 
G.  remarks,  "  An  odd  expression  this,  and  inexplicable  ;  but 
it  frequently  occurs!  "  Whitefield  says  of  a  dying  Christian, 
"  His  soul  seems  full  of  God  ;  "  T.  G.  observes,  "  An  odd 
expression  this,  and  needs  explanation."  T.  G.  concludes 
by  recommending,  in  the  words  of  Sylvester,  "  That  we 
should  go  to  our  baptism  for  the  date  of  our  regeneration." 
What  must  have  been  the  state  of  popular  sentiment  and  feel- 
ing, when  such  nonsense  could  obtain  readers  1  And  yet,  the 
authorship  of  this  anonymous  pamphlet  was  ascribed  to  an 
ex-fellow  of  a  college,  who,  although  he  disclaimed  it,  did 
not  object  to  its  principles  or  spirit.  "  Land's  Letter  to  the 
Religious  Societies"    1739. 

Early  in  March  the  vessels  left  Gibraltar  and  proceeded  on 
their  voyage  ;  and  being  soon  in  the  trade-winds,  they  often 
joined  at  the  hours  of  public  worship.  On  one  occasion,  Cap- 
tain Mackay,  after  Whitefield  had  preached  against  drunken- 
ness, urged  the  men  to  attend  to  the  things  that  had  been 
spoken  ;  telling  them  that  he  had  been  a  notorious  swearer 
until  he  had  done  so  ;  and  beseeching  them,  for  Christ's  sake, 
to  give  up  their  sins.  On  another  occasion,  whilst  marrying 
a  couple  on  deck,  Whitefield  suddenly  shut  the  prayer  book 
in  the  midst  of  the  ceremony,  because  the  bridegroom  had  be- 


70         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

havod  with  levity  ;  and  not  until  the  laughter  was  turned  into 
weeping,  would  he  proceed.  At  the  close,  he  gave  the  bride 
a  Bible. 

The  ships  were  now  almost  as  orderly  as  churches,  when 
the  weather  allowed  of  worship.  The  drum  summoned  them 
to  morning  and  evening  prayers.  The  captains  vied  in  kind- 
ness and  attention  to  the  chaplain.  Cards  and  profane  books 
were  thrown  overboard,  in  exchange  for  religious  books. 
The  women,  in  the  Whitaker,  exclaimed,  "  What  a  change  in 
our  captain  !  "  An  oath  became  a  strange  thing.  The  sol- 
diers began  to  learn  to  read  and  write,  and  the  children  to  re- 
peat their  prayers  regularly.  This  general  impression  was 
deepened  by  the  prevalence  of  a  fever  on  board,  during  which 
Captain  Whiting  accompanied  Whitefield  in  crawling  be- 
tween decks,  to  administer  medicine  and  cordials  to  the 
sailors. 

One  of  the  sufferers,  a  r.ogro  boy,  had  never  been  baptized. 
Whiting  pledged  Whitefield  to  instruct  and  baptize  him,  in 
the  event  of  his  recovery.  The  poor  lad,  however,  died, 
and  was  buried  without  the  service  being  read  over  him. 
The  chaplain  was  afraid  to  enter  upon  such  a  canonical  irre- 
gularity, although  he  was  no  believer  in  baptismal  regenera- 
tion. The  drum,  however,  was  beaten  on  the  occasion,  and 
an  address  given  to  the  whole  ship's  crew,  calling  on  them  to 
prepare  for  the  time  when  the  sea  shall  give  up  its  dead. 

Many  little  traits  of  Whitefield's  character  may  be  traced 
in  his  journals  of  this  voyage.  I  only  mention  another  : — his 
tact  in  turning  every  incident  into  a  lesson  for  himself  or 
others.  When  a  shark  was  caught,  with  five  pilot-fish  cling- 
ing to  its  fins,  he  says,  "  Go  to  the  pilot-fish,  thou  that  forsak- 
esta  friend  in  adversity,  consider  his  ways,  and  be  abashed." 
When  a  dolphin  was  caught,  the  change  of  its  hues  from  lovely 
to  livid,  reminds  him,  that  "just  so  is  man  ;  he  flourishes  for 
a  little,  but  when  death  cometh,  how  quickly  his  beauty  is 
gone  !  A  Christian  may  learn  instruction  from  every  thing  he 
meets  with."  When  darkness  came  on  whilst  he  was  preach- 
ing, on  Good  Friday,  he  says,  "  It  put  me  in  mind  of  that 
darkness  which  overwhelmed  the  world  when  the  God  of  na- 
ture suffered." 

The  fever,  which  only  three  or  four  in  the  ship  escaped,  at 
length  laid  hold  upon  Whitefield,  and  confined  him  to  his  bed 
for  a  week.  The  attack,  though  short,  must  have  been  se- 
vere ;  for  besides  blisters  and  vomit,  he  was  bled  three  times, 


whitefield's  life   and  times.  71 

During  his  illness  the  captain  gave  up  his  own  bed  to  him  ; 
Habersham  watched  him  day  and  night ;  and  (which  delight- 
ed him  most)  the  sick  between  decks,  whom  he  had  perilled 
his  life  to  console,  prayed  fervently  for  him.  He  soon  recov- 
ered, and  repaid  the  kindness  of  all. 

At  length,  on  May  5th,  they  came  in  sight  of  Savannah 
river,  and  sent  off  for  a  pilot  ;  and  such  was  the  joy  of  all 
when  they  came  to  anchor  at  Tyby  island,  that  he  could  not 
help  exclaiming,  "  How  infinitely  more  joyful  will  the  chil- 
dren of  God  be,  when,  having  passed  through  the  waves  of 
this  troublesome  world,  they  arrive  at  the  haven  of  everlasting 
rest !  "  Though  still  weak,  he  preached  a  farewell  sermon 
to  his  "  red-coated  and  blue-jacketed  parishioners,"  as  he  call 
ed  his  military  and  naval  congregation.  It  was  heard  with 
floods  of  tears. 

"  Upon  this  voyage,"  says  Gillies,  "  he  made  the  following 
reflections  many  years  after." — "  Even  at  this  distance  of 
time,  the  remembrance  of  the  happy  hours  I  enjoyed  in  reli- 
gious exercises  on  deck,  is  refreshing  to  my  soul ;  and  although 
nature  sometimes  relented  at  being  taken  from  my  friends, 
and  I  was  little  accustomed  to  the  inconvenience  of  a  sea  life, 
yet,  a  consciousness  that  I  had  the  glory  of  God  and  the  good 
of  souls  in  view,  afforded  me,  from  time  to  time,  unspeakable 
satisfaction.'' 

Whitefield  was  cordially  welcomed  at  Savannah  by  Dela- 
motte  and  other  friends  of  Wesley.  The  magistrates  also 
offered  to  wait  upon  him,  to  pay  their  respects.  This  he  de- 
clined, and  waited  on  them  ;  when  they  agreed  to  build  him  a 
tabernacle  and  house  at  Frederica,  and  to  accept  his  services 
at  Savannah  as  long  as  he  pleased.  He  was  soon  laid  aside 
again,  however,  by  a  return  of  his  fever,  which  terminated  in 
ague.  This  attack  brought  him  so  low  for  a  few  days,  and 
made  such  an  alteration  in  his  person,  that  he  says,  "  Had 
my  friends  seen  me  at  that  hour,  they  might  have  learned  not 
to  have  any  man's  person  in  admiration,  and  not  to  think  more 
highly  of  me  than  they  ought  to  think." 

The  first  thing  he  did  after  his  recovery  was  to  visit  Tomo- 
Chichi,  the  Indian  king,  then  on  his  death-bed.  This  was  the 
micoe,  or  king,  whom  Oglethorpe  brought  to  England,  in 
1734,  and  introduced  to  George  II.  He  was  accompanied 
by  his  wife  and  son,  and  seven  other  Indians  of  the  Creek 
nation.  His  eloquent  speech  to  the  king  and  queen  is  well 
known;  and  was  so  well  received  at  court,  that  he  was  loaded 


72  whitefield' s   life   and   times. 

with  presents,  and  even  sent  in  one  of  the  royal  carriages  to 
Gravescnd  when  he  had  to  embark  again. 

He  now  lav,  says  Whitefield,  "  on  a  blanket,  thin  and 
meagre  ;  little  else  but  skin  and  bones.  Senanki,  his  wife, 
sat  by,  fanning  him  with  Indian  feathers.  There  was  no  one 
could  talk  English,  so  I  could  only  shake  hands  with  him  and 
leave  him."  A  few  days  after  Whitefield  went  again  to  visit 
Tomo-Chiehi,  and  found  that  his  nephew,  Tooanoowee,  could 
speak  English.  "  I  desired  him  to  ask  his  uncle,  whether  he 
thought  he  should  die  ;  who  answered,  I  cannot  tell.  I  then 
asked,  where  he  thought  he  should  go  after  death  1  He  re- 
plied, to  heaven.  But  alas  !  how  can  a  drunkard  enter  there  ! 
I  then  exhorted  Tooanoowae  (who  is  a  tall,  proper  youth)  not 
to  get  drunk ;  telling  him,  that  he  understood  English,  and 
therefore  would  be  punished  the  more,  if  he  did  not  live  better. 
I  then  asked  him,  whether  he  believed  a  heaven  1  He  said, 
Yes.  I  then  asked,  whether  he  believed  a  hell  1  and  described 
it  by  pointing  to  the  fire.  He  replied,  No.  From  whence 
we  may  easily  gather,  how  natural  it  is  to  all  mankind  to 
believe  there  is  a  place  of  happiness,  because  they  wish  it  to 
be  so  ;  and  on  the  contrary,  how  averse  they  are  to  believe  a 
place  of  torment,  because  they  wish  it  may  not  be  so.  But 
God  is  just  and  true  ;  and  as  surely  as  the  righteous  shall 
go  away  into  everlasting  happiness,  so  the  impenitently 
wicked  shall  go  into  everlasting  punishment." 

Dr.  Southey  has  quoted  part  of  this  paragraph  in  a  note, 
and  prefaced  it  thus  :  "  Whitefield  was  not  so  likely  (as  Wes- 
ley) to  have  led  these  Indians  into  the  right  way,  if  we  may 
judge  from  his  conference  with  poor  Tomo-Chichi,  when  that 
chief  was  at  the  point  of  death."  If  the  doctor  mean,  that 
Whitefield  should  have  shown  a  dying  drunkard  how  pardon 
might  be  obtained,  instead  of  exclaiming,  "  Alas  !  how  shall 
a  drunkard  enter  heaven  !  "  I  quite  agree  with  him.  He  mis- 
takes, however,  if  he  supposes  that  this  exclamation  was 
addressed  to  the  chief.  It  is  Whitefield's  own  private  reflec- 
tion on  the  case,  when  he  wrote  an  account  of  it ;  and  distin- 
guished, like  all  his  private  reflections  of  a  solemn  kind,  by 
italics.  Besides,  it  is  highly  improbable  that  Whitefield,  the 
man  who  had  just  been  teaching  soldiers  and  sailors  the  way 
to  heaven,  would  have  thus  abruptly  shut  the  door  on  a  dying 
Indian  !  He  who  warned  the  young  nephew,  would  not  for- 
get to  woo  the  old  uncle  ;  although  the  result  only,  and  not 
the  process,  appears  in  his  journal. 


whitefield' s    life    and    times.         73 

When  Whitefield  was  sufficiently  recovered  to  survey  the 
colony,  the   state  of  the  children  affected  him  deeply.     The 
idea  of  an  orphan-house,  in  Georgia,  had  been  suggested  to 
him  by  Charles  Wesley,   "  before  he  himself  had  any  thought 
of  going  abroad;"  and  now  that  he  saw  the  condition  of  the 
colonists,  he  said,  "nothing  but  an  orphan-house  can  effect" 
the  education  of  the  children.     From  this  moment  he  set  his 
heart  upon  founding  one,  as  soon  as  he  could  raise  funds. 
In  the  mean  time,  he  did  what  he  could :   he  opened  a  school 
for  the  villages  of  Highgate  and  Hampstead,  and  one  for  girls 
at  Savannah.     He    then   visited    the   Saltzburghers'   orphan 
school  at  Ebenezer ;  and  if  any  thing  was  wanting  to  perfect 
his  own  design,  or  to  inflame  his  zeal,  he  found  it  there.     The 
Saltzburghers  themselves  were  exiles  for  conscience'  sake, 
and  eminent  for  piety  and  industry.     Their  ministers,  Gre- 
naw  and  Boltzius,  were  truly  evangelical.     Their  asylum, 
which  they  had  been  enabled   to  found  by   English  benevo- 
lence, for  widows  and  orphans,    was    flourishing.      White- 
field  was  so  delighted  with  the  order  and  harmony  of  Ebe- 
nezer, that  he  gave  a  share   of  his   own   "poor's-store"  to 
Boltzius,   for  his  orphans.     Then  came   the  scene — which 
completed   Whitefield's  purpose.     Boltzius  "  called   all   the 
children  before  him  :  catechised  and  exhorted  them  to  give 
God  thanks   for   his   good  providence  towards  them  :  then 
prayed  with  them,  and  made  them  pray  after  him  :   then  sung 
a  psalm.     Afterwards,  the  little  lambs  came  and  shook  me  by 
the  hand,  one  by  one,  and  so  we  parted!  "   From  this  moment 
Whitefield  made  his  purpose  his  fate. 

After  spending  a  few  weeks  at  Savannah,  labouring  as  hard 
as  his  health  would  permit,  he  went  to  Frederica,  where  he 
was  gladly  received  ;  the  people  having  "  had  a  famine  of  the 
word  for  a  long  season."  They  had  no  sanctuary,  and  there- 
fore he  had  to  preach  under  a  tree,  or  in  Habersham's  house. 
This  visit,  although  short,  endeared  him  toall  the  people;  and 
he  had  the  satisfaction,  before  he  left,  to  see  them  "  sawing 
timber  for  a  commodious  place  of  worship,  until  a  church 
could  be  built." 

His  return  to  Savannah  was  hastened  by  a  circumstance 
which  Gillies  overlooked.  One  of  his  friends  (he  does  not  say 
which)  had  lost  himself  in  the  woods,  and  was  missing  from 
Tuesday  to  Friday.  The  great  guns  had  been  fired  in  vain 
to  direct  the  wanderer.  Some  of  the  people  had  searched 
day  and  night  for  him,  without  success.     This  report  was 

7 


74  whitefield's    life    and    times. 

sent  to  Whitefield,  and  it  hurried  him  away  from  Frederica. 
He  had  the  pleasure,  however,  on  his  arrival  at  Savannah,  to 
find  his  "  lost  sheep." 

Here  an  instance  of  refusing  to  read  the  burial  service  oc- 
curred, which  is  more  creditable  to  him  than  its  omission  in 
the  case  of  the  poor  negro  boy.  It  will  be  best  told  in  his 
own  words.  "  I  was  obliged  to-day  to  express  my  resentment 
against  infidelity,  by  refusing  to  read  the  Burial  Office  over 
the  most  professed  unbeliever  I  ever  yet  met  with.  God  was 
pleased  to  visit  him  with  lingering  illness  ;  during  which  I 
went  to  see  him  frequently.  About  five  weeks  ago,  I  asked 
him,  what  religion  he  was  of?  He  answered,  '  Religion  was 
of  so  many  sects,  he  knew  not  which  to  choose.'  Another 
time,  I  offered  to  pray  with  him,  but  he  would  not  accept  it. 
Upon  which  I  resolved  to  go  to  see  him  no  more.  But  being 
told,  two  days  before  he  died,  that  he  had  an  inclination  to  see 
me,  I  went  again,  and,  after  a  little  conversation,  put  the  fol- 
lowing questions  to  him  :  '  Do  you  believe  Jesus  Christ  to  be 
God,  and  the  one  Mediator  between  God  and  man  1 '  He 
said,  'I  believe  Jesus  Christ  was  a  good  man.'  'Do  you 
believe  the  holy  Scriptures?'  'I  believe  something  of  the 
Old  Testament :  the  New  I  do  not  believe  at  all.'  '  Do  you 
believe,  sir,  a  judgment  to  come  1  '  He  turned  himself  about 
and  replied,  'I  know  not  what  to  say  to  that.'  'Alas,  sir  ! '  said 
I — 'if  all  these  things  should  be  true,  what — 1 '  which  words, 
I  believe,  gave  him  great  concern  ;  for  he  seemed  after  to  be 
very  uneasy,  grew  delirious,  and  in  a  day  or  two  departed. 
Unhappy  man — how  quickly  he  was  convinced  !  The  day 
after  his  decease  he  was  carried  to  the  ground,  and  I  refused 
to  read  the  office  over  him  ; — but  I  went  to  the  grave,  and  told 
the  people  what  had  passed  between  him  and  me  :  and,  warn- 
ing all  against  infidelity,  I  asked  them,  whether  I  could  safely 
say, — 'As  our  hope  is,  this  our  brother  doth  1 '  Upon  which, 
I  believe,  they  were  thoroughly  satisfied  that  I  had  done 
light."  This  was  equally  creditable  to  the  preacher  and  the 
people  ! 

A  few  days  after  this  event,  Whitefield  preached  his  fare- 
well sermon  at  Savannah  ;  it  being  necessary  for  him  to  return 
to  England.  How  much  he  loved  and  was  beloved,  although 
only  "  as  a  wayfaring  man  turning  aside  to  tarry  for  a  night," 
may  be  judged  from  his  own  account.  "I  preached  my  fare- 
well sermon,  to  the  great  grief  of  my  dear  parishioners,  whose 
hearts  were  full  as  well  as  mine,  which  we  all  showed  by  many 


whitefield's    life    and    times.  75 

tears.  But  a  sensible  alteration  appeared  in  fkeir  counte- 
nances, when  I  promised  solemnly,  before  God,  to  return  as 
soon  as  possible." 

Next  day  he  went  to  Charleston,  in  South  Carolina,  to  em- 
bark for  England.  Gillies  says,  that  Commissary  Garden 
entreated  him  to  preach  in  the  church.  This  is  true :  but 
Garden  was  the  ecclesiastical,  not  the  civil  commissary.  I 
mention  this,  because  his  kindness  to  Whitefield  was  great  at 
first.  It  is  thus  recorded  in  the  revised  journals  :  "  The 
bishop  of  London's  commissary,  the  Rev.  M.  G.  received  me 
very  courteously,  and  offered  me  a  lodging.  How  does  God 
raise  up  friends  wherever  I  go!"  Gillies's  account  will 
now  be  better  appreciated  :  "  Mr.  G.  thanked  him  most  cordi- 
ally, (he  had  preached  twice  in  the  church,)  and  assured  him 
that  he  would  defend  him  with  his  life  and  property,  should 
the  same  arbitrary  proceedings  commence  against  him,  which 
Mr.  Wesley  met  with  in  Georgia.  He  also  said  something 
about  the  colony  of  Georgia,  which  much  encouraged  White- 
field  ;  as  if  he  thought  its  flourishing  not  far  off;"  and 
instanced  Charleston,  "  as  now  fifteen  times  bigger  than  when 
he  came  there."  This  "  life  and  fortune"  friend  put  on  a  new 
face  afterwards ! 

Gillies  sums  up  Whitefield's  labours  in  Georgia  thus  : 
"  It  had  been  his  practice  to  read  prayers  and  expound  (be- 
sides visiting  the  sick)  twice  a  day.  On  Sunday,  he  ex- 
pounded at  Jive  in  the  morning  ;  at  ten,  read  prayers  and 
preached  ;  and  at  three  in  the  afternoon  ;  and  at  seven  in  the 
evening,  he  expounded  the  Church  Catechism.  How  much 
easier  it  is  for  the  clergy  in  England,  Scotland,  and  Ireland, 
to  find  fault  with  such  a  faithful  brother  in  the  ministry,  than 
to  follow  his  example  !  " 

The  following  note  from  Whitefield's  diary  will  explain, 
in  some  measure,  how  he  bore  the  hardships  of  his  perilous 
voyage  home.  "  During  my  stay  (in  Georgia)  the  weather 
was  most  intensely  hot,  burning  me  almost  through  my 
shoes.  Seeing  others  do  it,  who  were  as  unable,  I  deter- 
mined to  inure  myself  to  hardships,  by  lying  constantly  on 
the  ground ;  which,  by  use,  I  found  to  be  so  far  from  being 
a  hardship,  that,  afterwards,  it  became  so  to  lie  on  a  bed."  It 
was  well  it  did :  for,  all  the  way  home,  he  had  no  bed,  until 
he  reached  Ireland.  Nor  was  this  his  only  privation  on  the 
voyage.  At  the  outset  they  were  tossed  from  "  bar  to  bar," 
for  nearly  a  fortnight,  by  contrary  winds.     Their  provision 


76         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

began  to  fail  before  they  had  accomplished  a  third  of  the 
passage:  and  when  they  reached  Ireland,  they  were  so  worn 
out  by  famine  and  fatigue,  that  Whitefield  says,  "  they  were 
weak  and  hollow-eyed,"  even  in  the  great  cabin.  On  land- 
ing, however,  he  soon  rallied,  and  preached  with  great  power 
at  Limerick  and  Dublin  for  some  days.  The  account  of  his 
reception  and  success  will  be  found  in  the  chapter,  "  White- 
field  in  Ireland." 


whitefield's    life    and    times.  77 


CHAPTER  IV. 

•whitefield's   first   GREAT  MEASURES   IN   LONDON,    1739. 

These  had  so  much  influence  upon  his  subsequent  charac- 
ter and  career,  that  I  shall  not  interrupt  their  narrative,  by 
his  occasional  excursions  into  the  country,  until  his  position 
in  the  metropolis  is  fully  understood.  That  was,  indeed,  in- 
fluenced by  his  proceedings  in  Bristol  and  Wales  :  but  he 
would  have  become  a  field  preacher,  even  if  he  had  not  begun 
at  Bristol. 

He  arrived  in  London  again  at  the  close  of  1738,  after  a 
perilous  voyage.  This  sudden  return  was  forced  upon  him  ; 
not  sought  by  him.  "I  was  really  happy  in  my  little  foreign 
cure,  and  could  have  cheerfully  remained  among  them,  had  I 
not  been  obliged  to  return  to  England,  to  receive  priest's  or- 
ders, and  make  a  beginning  towards  laying  the  foundation  of 
the  orphan-house.  And  thus — the  place  where  I  intended  to 
hide  myself  in,  became,  through  my  being  obliged  to  return 
for  these  purposes,  a  mean  of  increasing  that  popularity  which 
was  already  begun  ; — but  which  by  me  was  absolutely  un- 
foreseen, and  absolutely  undesigned." 

His  diary  at  sea,  written  amidst  hurricanes  and  famine, 
illustrates  the  truth  of  this  explanation.  "  Had  I  my  own 
will,  I  could  wish  myself  a  speedy  passage,  that  I  might  return 
the  sooner  to  those  few  sheep  1  have  left  in  Savannah."  It 
was  thus  with  a  single  eye  and  a  simple  purpose,  that  White- 
field  returned  to  London. 

The  first  thing  he  did  on  his  arrival,  was,  to  wait  on  the 
archbishop  of  Canterbury,  and  the  bishop  of  London.  Dr. 
Gillies  says,  "he  was  coldly  received  by  them  :  "  Whitefield 
himself  says,  "  I  met  with  a  favourable  reception  from  both ; 
but  was  not  so  civilly  treated  by  some  of  the  clergy  ;  for  five 
churches  have  been  already  (in  two  days)  denied  me.  How- 
ever, I  had  an  opportunity  of  preaching  at  St.  Helen's  and  at 
Islington,  to  large  congregations  indeed  ;  and  in  the  evening 
(of  that  first  Sabbath)  I  went  to  a  society  in  Fetter  Lane,  where 
we  had,  what  might  not  be  improperly  called,  a  love  feast ; 

7* 


78  whitefield's  life  and   times. 

eating  a  little  bread  and  water,  and  spending  two  hours  in 
singing  and  prayers." 

It  was  now  Christmas,  and  he  spent  almost  every  evening 
in  expounding  to,  and  praying  with,  societies  of  this  kind. 
On  Christmas  eve,  he  continued  the  exercise  until  four  in 
the  morning.  "At  six,"  he  says,  with  his  characteristic  sim- 
plicity, "I  went  to  another  in  Crutched  Friars,  and  expound- 
ed as  well  as  I  could; — but  (no  wonder  !)  perceived  myself  a 
little  oppressed  with  drowsiness."  He  had  been  from  four  till 
six  o'clock  that  morning  in  a  large  meeting  in  Red  Cross- 
street  ;  which  is  memorable  from  the  fact,  that  there,  for  the 
first  time  in  his  life,  he  ventured  to  pray  extempore,  "  before 
many  witnesses."  He  mentions  this  fact  in  a  note  of  his 
diary.  "Dec.  25.  The  first  time  I  ever  prayed  extempore, 
before  such  a  number."  Extempore  preaching  soon  followed 
this  prayer ! 

On  new-year's  day  he  writes  thus  :  "  Received  the  holy 
sacrament,  preached  twice,  and  expounded  twice ;  and  found 
this  the  happiest  new-year's  day  that  I  ever  saw.  Afterwards 
spent  the  whole  night  in  close  prayer,  psalms,  and  thanksgiv- 
ings, with  the  Fetter  Lane  society."  Well  might  Dr.  Gillies 
say,  of  Whitefield  and  his  friends,  "religious  exercises  seem- 
ed to  be  their  meat  and  drink." 

As  might  be  expected,  work  of  this  kind  offended  many. 
It  was  shared,  however,  for  a  long  time,  by  some  of  the  clergy. 
"Jan.  5th.  Held  a  conference  at  Islington,  concerning  many 
things  of  importance,  with  seven  ministers  of  Jesus  Christ, 
despised  methodists,  whom  God  in  his  providence  brought  to- 
gether. We  continued  in  fasting  and  prayer  till  three  o'clock; 
and  then  parted  with  a  full  conviction  that  God  was  about  to 
do  great  things  amongst  us.  Oh  that  we  may  be  in  any  way 
instrumental  to  his  glory !  0  that  he  would  make  the  vessels 
pure  and  holy  ;  meet  for  such  a  dear  Master's  use!  " 

Such  were  Whitefield's  habits,  and  such  the  state  of  his 
mind,  when  he  went  to  Oxford  to  be  ordained  a  priest.  "He 
was  ordained,"  says  Gillies,  "by  his  good  friend  Bishop  Ben- 
son." Benson  deserved  this  epithet  from  Whitefield's  bio- 
grapher. It  is  well  known,  however,  that  he  afterwards  re- 
pented, for  a  time,  of  having  "  ever  laid  his  hands  upon 
George  Whitefield:"  but  he  repented  of  this  repentance; 
and  sent,  from  his  dying  bed  to  \\  hitefiekl,  a  present,  with  a 
kind  request  to  be  remembered  in  his  prayers. 

The  ordinary  explanation  of  all  this  seems  to  be  warranted 


whitefield's  life   and   times.  79 

by  fact.  Benson  had  been  tutor  to  lord  Huntingdon,  and 
was  thus  naturally  sent  for  to  reason  with  the  countess,  when 
she  became  a  methodist.  Her  ladyship,  however,  reasoned 
with  the  bishop  ;  and  so  plied  him  with  articles  and  homilies 
in  favour  of  her  creed,  and  with  the  solemn  responsibilities  of 
his  own  office,  that  she  offended  him.  "He  rose  up  in  haste 
(says  my  authority)  to  depart,  bitterly  lamenting  that  he  had 
ever  laid  hands  on  George  Whitefield  ;  to  whom  he  imputed, 
though  without  cause,  the  change  wrought  on  her  ladyship. 
She  called  him  back  :  'My  lord,'  said  she,  'mark  my  words  : 
when  you  come  to  your  dying  bed,  that  will  be  one  of  the  few 
ordinations  you  will  reflect  upon  with  complacency."' 

As  before,  Whitefield  was  deeply  affected  by  his  ordination. 
He  went  from  the  altar  to  the  pulpit  that  very  day,  "  to  begin 
to  make  proof"  of  his  ministry;  and  preached  twice  in  Ox- 
ford, and  expounded  at  Carfax  in  the  evening,  and  attended 
a  prayer-meeting  at  night. 

On  his  return  to  London,  he  was  alternately  in  the  pulpit, 
and  at  these  private  meetings  :  and  it  is  difficult  to  say  which 
of  the  two  spheres  of  labour  had  most  influence  upon  his 
mind  and  movements  at  this  time.  It  was  certainly  the 
crowding  at  church,  that  first  suggested  to  him  the  idea  of 
preaching  in  the  open  air.  "When  I  was  informed  that  nearly 
a  thousand  people  stood  out  in  the  church-yard,  and  that  hun- 
dreds returned  home,  this  put  me  first  upon  thinking  of 
preaching  without-doors.  I  mentioned  it  to  some  friends,  who 
looked  upon  it  as  a  mad  motion.  However,  we  kneeled  down 
and  prayed,  that  nothing  might  be  done  rashly.  Hear  and  an- 
swer, O  Lord,  for  thy  name's  sake."  It  is  evident  from  this 
prayer,  that  Whitefield  himself  did  not  think  his  design  "  a 
mad  motion."  But  still,  although  a  crowded  church  suggest- 
ed it,  crowded  prayer-meetings  produced  the  spirit  of  the  en- 
terprise. It  was  by  expounding  and  praying  extempore,  that 
he  discovered  his  own  power  over  himself  and  others  ;  and 
found  out  that  the  divine  presence  might  be  calculated  upon, 
whenever  the  divine  glory  was  consulted.  These  pentecostal 
seasons  in  private  made  him  feel  through  all  his  soul,  that  he 
ought  to  do  every  thing  to  win  souls,  and  that  he  could  do 
any  thing  he  might  attempt. 

The  influence  of  these  meetings  upon  Whitefield  has  never 
been  fully  appreciated.  They  were  to  him,  however,  what 
the  wilderness  was  to  John  the  Baptist ;  the  school  of  his 
spirit.     There  he  caught  the  holy  and  heroic  impulse,  which 


80  whitefield's   life   and   times. 

prepared  him  to  challenge  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees  any 
where,  and  determined  him  to  warn  them,  in  common  with 
publicans  and  sinners,  everywhere,  to  "flee  from  the  wrath  to 
come."  I  might  go  further,  and  without  extravagance  say, 
that  prayer-meetings  were  to  Whitefield  what  the  "  third  hea- 
vens." were  to  Paul  ;  the  finishing  school  of  his  ministerial 
education.  He  was  as  much  indebted  to  them  for  his  unc- 
tion and  enterprise,  as  to  Pembroke  Hall  for  his  learning;  or 
as  to  the  Oxford  methodists  for  his  piety ;  or  as  to  Benson 
for  his  ordination  to  the  priesthood  ;  (for  what  other  bishop 
would  have  laid  his  hands  on  him  then?)  Wesley  also  caught 
the  primitive  flame  of  evangelization,  in  one  of  these  private 
societies  at  Bristol  :  for  until  he  saw  how  "the  Spirit  moved 
on  the  face  "  of  these  meetings,  he  was  so  tenacious  of  every 
thing  relating  to  clerical  order  and  decorum,  that  he  would 
have  counted  it  "almost  a  sin  to  save  souls  out  of  a  church." 
Watson,  without  seeming  at  all  struck  by  the  coincidence, 
says,  "  Mr.  Wesley  first  expounded  to  a  little  society  in  Ni- 
cholas-street,— and  next  day  he  overcame  his  scruples,  and 
preached  abroad,  on  an  eminence  near  Bristol,  to  more  than 
two  thousand  persons  !  "  In  all  this,  indeed,  he  was  only  fol- 
lowing the  example  of  Whitefield,  who  had  just  preceded  him, 
as  well  as  proved  both  the  safety  and  the  success  of  the  expe- 
riment :  but  still  if  these  things  encouraged  Wesley,  it  was 
the  social  meeting  that  convinced  and  determined  him.  "  I 
have  since"  he  says,  "  seen  abundant  reason  to  adore  the 
wise  providence  of  God  herein,  in  thus  making  a  way  for 
myriads  of  people,  who  never  troubled  any  church,  or  were 
likely  to  do  so,  to  hear  that  word  which  they  soon  found  the 
power  of  God  unto  salvation."  These  facts  are  as  instruct 
tive  as  they  are  interesting.  Private  devotional  meetings 
were  thus  the  cradle  of  field  preaching,  as  surely  as  field 
preaching  was  the  morning  star  of  England's  second  reforma- 
tion !  How  often,  in  grace  as  in  nature,  God  hangs  the  great- 
est weights  on  the  smallest  wires  !  I  mean,  on  wires  account- 
ed the  smallest  by  the  wisdom  of  this  world,  and  by  the  folly 
of  the  church  :  for  social  prayer-meetings  are  the  strongest 
wires  in  all  the  machinery  of  the  moral  universe.  God  hung 
upon  them  all  the  weighty  gifts,  and  all  the  weightier  grace 
and  glory,  of  Pentecost  !  God  hung  upon  them  all  that  is 
great  and  good  in  the  American  revivals,  and  all  that  is  ama- 
zing in  the  success  of  foreign  missions.  It  was  when  the 
British  churches  were  as  the  heart  of  one  man  in  prayer,  that 


whitefield's   life   and   times.  81 

African  slavery  was  abolished  throughout  the  British  domi- 
nions. The  spiritual  destiny  of  America  now  hangs  on  her 
prayer-meetings ! 

It  is  not  a  misnomer  to  call  the  religious  societies,  which 
Whitefield  and  Wesley  found  in  London  and  Bristol,  prayer- 
meetings.  Whitefield  often  mentions  the  prayers  he  united 
in  before  he  ventured  to  pray  extempore.  Bishop  Hopkins 
and  Dr.  Horneck  were  the  authors  of  them.  The  members 
met,  however,  for  other  purposes.  They  were  bound  by  their 
rules  to  meet  weekly,  "  for  good  discourse  ;  for  the  promo- 
tion of  schools  and  catechising ;  for  the  relief  of  the  poor ; 
and  to  discourse  only  on  subjects  tending  to  practical  holi- 
ness, and  to  avoid  all  controversy." 

These  societies  originated  in  1667,  in  consequence  of  the 
success  of  Dr.  Horneck's  ministry,  and  the  morning  lectures 
in  Comhill ;  which  brought  many  young  men  to  a  very  affect- 
ing sense  of  their  sins,  and  to  a  very  serious  way  of  treating 
religion.  The  meetings  were  so  well  conducted,  and  their  in- 
fluence on  public  morals  so  beneficial,  that  on  the  accession 
of  William  and  Mary,  they  were  patronized  by  the  queen  and 
a  few  of  the  bishops.  They  gradually,  however,  fell  into 
decay.  Instead  of  forty  in  London,  which  was  their  number 
at  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century,  I  can  only  trace 
about  ten  in  Whitefield's  journals,  in  vigorous  or  healthy  ac- 
tion. In  these,  however,  there  was  evidently  much  vital  god- 
liness, when  Whitefield  began  to  expound  and  pray  in  them. 
Even  his  devotional  spirit  was  improved  by  them,  as  well  as 
appreciated  in  them.  They  not  only  sympathized  in  all  the 
fervency  of  his  first  love,  but  also  fanned  it  into  the  blaze  of 
apostolic  zeal.  Could  there  be  better  proof  of  their  spiritual 
health  or  discernment  ?  How  vividly  and  fondly  he  remem- 
bered the  "times  of  refreshing  from  the  presence  of  the 
Lord,"  vouchsafed  in  these  little  sanctuaries,  may  be  judged 
from  the  following  note  in  his  diary  :  "Often  have  we  been 
filled  as  with  new  wine.  Often  have  I  seen  them  overwhelmed 
with  the  divine  presence ;  and  crying  out,  Will  God  indeed 
dwell  with  men  upon  earth  ?  How  dreadful  is  this  place  ! 
This  is  no  other  than  the  house  of  God,  and  the  gate  of  hea- 
ven." He  also  published  a  letter  to  them.  Whilst  thus  en- 
gaged and  affected  in  London,  persecution  began  to  assail 
him.  One  clergyman  attacked  him  by  a  scurrilous  pamphlet, 
(of  which  Whitefield  merely  says,  "  Thou  shalt  answer  for 
me,  my  Lord  and  my  God,")  and  others  from  the  pulpit. 


82          whttefikld's    life    and    times. 

Gillies  says,  "  Pulpits  rung  with  invectives  against  him,  and 
the  parish  priests  threatened  some  of  their  parishioners  with 
prosecutions,  for  letting  him  expound  and  pray  in  their 
houses."  Whitefield  himself,  however,  records  only  one  in- 
stance of  threatened  prosecution,  in  his  corrected  journals. 
"  Jan.  30th.  Expounded  twice  on  Dowgate  Hill,  where  the 
people  pressed  mightily  to  come  in.  The  minister  of  the  pa- 
rish threatens  the  master  of  the  house  with  a  prosecution. 
But,  blessed  be  God,  we  breathe  in  a.  free  air  !" 

I  quote  this  memorandum  for  the  sake  of  the  closing  excla- 
mation. He  had  seen  enough  of  bigotry  and  intolerance  in  the 
course  of  one  month  in  London,  to  turn  his  attention  to  the 
shields  of  liberty.  Besides,  during  that  month,  Whitefield 
had  visited  "  some  dissenting  Christian  brethren  ;"  and  only 
a  week  before  writing  his  thanksgiving  for  the  "free  air"  of 
religious  liberty,  he  had  enjoyed  an  interview  with  Dr.  Watts, 
at  Stoke  Newington.  "  Jan.  24.  Went  to  Newington  to  see 
Dr.  Watts,  who  received  me  most  cordially."  This  record 
does  not,  indeed,  imply  that  any  thing  passed  between  him  and 
the  dissenters,  on  the  subject  of  freedom  ;  but  still  the  coinci- 
dence is  remarkable,  because  none  of  his  former  visits  with 
dissenters  drew  forth  any  apostrophe  to  liberty.  Then,  how- 
ever, he  was  only  personally  assailed ;  but  now  that  his  con- 
verts were  threatened  with  prosecutions,  nothing  was  more 
likely  to  lead  his  thoughts  to  the  subject,  than  a  visit  to  Dr. 
Watts,  even  if  nothing  was  said  on  the  subject.  For  White- 
field  could  not  but  see  that  he  must  soon  need  for  himself  and 
his  adherents,  the  whole  panoply  of  toleration,  if  he  preached 
in  the  open  air :  and  that,  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  do,  two 
days  before  he  penned  his  apostrophe.  "  Jan.  28th,  Sunday. 
Received  the  sacrament  at  Crooked  Lane  church:  afterwards 
went  and  preached  at  Ironmonger's  Alms-houses — not  doubt- 
ing, but  there  would  be  hundreds  more  than  the  chapel  would 
hold.  I  took  two  written  sermons  with  me — one  for  within 
—and  the  other  for  without.  But  to  my  surprise  (he  might 
have  said  disappointment,  for  he  wished  to  get  out !)  found  no 
more  than  could  conveniently  hear  me  from  the  pulpit."  In 
the  course  of  a  few  days,  he  also  exhorted  the  society  at  Dow- 
gate Hill,  particularly,  "not  to  forsake  the  assembling  of 
themselves  together,  notwithstanding  the  people  of  the  house 
had  been  threatened  with  a  prosecution."  Thus,  wherever 
Whitefield  caught  the  love  of  religious  liberty,  he  soon  both 


whitefield's   life   and  times.  83 

cherished  and  spread  the  sacred  flame,  when  intolerance  me- 
naced his  friends. 

In  the  space  of  a  fortnight  from  this  time,  Whitefield  was 
preaching  to  the  Bristol  colliers,  on  Hannam  Mount,  at  Rose 
Green  ;  and  on  the  twenty-seventh  of  April,  he  preached  in 
Islington  church-yard.  The  churchwarden  of  Islington  had 
demanded  him  to  produce  his  license,  although  he  went  there 
hy  the  vicar's  appointment,  to  officiate.  "  For  peace'  sake,  I 
declined  preaching  in  the  church  ;  and  after  the  communion, 
preached  in  the  church-yard  ;  being  assured  my  Master  now 
called  me  out  here,  as  well  as  at  Bristol."  Next  day  he 
writes  thus  :  "  Preached  again  in  Islington  church-yard,  to  a 
congregation  nearly  as  large  again  as  yesterday.  The  second 
lesson  was  very  applicable  ;  being  Acts  xxv.  I  can  say  with 
St.  Paul,  '  Neither  against  the  temple,  nor  against  Caesar, 
have  I  done  any  thing  ;'  and  yet  I  am  cast  out  and  reviled  as 
an  evil-doer:  but  the  Scriptures  must  be  fulfilled — 'If  they 
have  persecuted  Me,  they  will  also  persecute  you.' "  The 
people  must  have  been  struck  by  this  coincidence:  for  they 
had  given  Whitefield  a  collection  for  his  orphan-house, 
amounting  to  £22,  only  a  few  weeks  before  ;  and  nothing 
had  happened  in  the  interval  to  disqualify  him  for  the  pulpit, 
but  field  preaching;  and  that  had  not  startled  the  vicar.  The 
fact  is,  Stonehouse,  the  vicar,  was  friendly  to  the  methodists, 
and  disliked  by  the  heads  of  the  parish.  I  have  seen  some 
of  his  sermons,  the  fidelity  of  which  is  almost  ferocious. 

At  this  time,  too,  all  London  was  ringing  with  the  announce- 
ment, that  Whitefield  would  preach  next  day  (Sunday)  in 
Moorfields.  "  The  thing  being  new  and  singular,"  says 
Gillies,  "  he  found,  on  coming  out  of  the  coach,  an  incredible 
number  of  people  assembled.  Many  had  told  him  that  he 
should  never  come  out  of  that  place  alive.  He  went  in,  how- 
ever, between  two  friends,  who,  by  the  pressure  of  the  crowd, 
were  soon  parted  from  him  entirely,  and  obliged  to  leave  him 
k>  the  mercy  of  the  rabble.  But  these,  instead  of  hurting  him, 
formed  a  lane  for  him,  and  carried  him  along  to  the  middle  of 
the  fields,  where  a  table  had  been  placed,  (which  was  broken 
in  pieces  by  the  crowd,)  and  afterwards  back  again  to  the 
wall  that  then  parted  the  upper  and  lower  Moorfields,  from 
which  he  preached  without  molestation,  to  an  exceeding  great 
multitude,  in  the  lower  fields." 

This  is  not  too  oratorically  told  for  the  greatness  of  the  oc- 
casion. That  was  worthy  of  a  more  graphic  and  glowing  pen, 


84         whitefield's   life    and    times. 

than  has  yet  tried  to  depict  the  scene.  Whitefield  himself, 
however,  summed  up  the  whole  matter  in  his  corrected  jour- 
nals, thus  :  "  Sunday,  April  29.  Begun  to  be  yet  more  vile 
this  day ;  for  I  preached  at  Moorfields  to  an  exceeding  great 
multitude  :  and,  at  five  in  the  evening,  went  and  preached  at 
Kennington  Common,  where  upwards  of  twenty  thousand 
people  were  supposed  to  be  present.  The  wind  being  for 
me,  it  carried  my  voice  to  the  extremest  part  of  the  audience. 
All  stood  attentive,  and  joined  in  the  psalm  and  the  Lord's 
prayer  so  regularly,  that  I  scarce  ever  preached  with  more 
quietness  in  a  church.     Many  were  much  affected. 

For  this — let  men  revile  my  name, 
I'd  shun  no  cross,  I'd  fear  no  shame, 
All  hail,  reproach,  and  welcome  pain ! 
Only  thy  terrors,  Lord,  restrain." 

Such  was  his  own  bulletin  of  this  "great  field  day,"  when 
he  wrote  for  posterity: — for  this  is  part  of  his  autobiography. 
"When  he  wrote  for  his  public  journals,  he  merely  said, 
"  Preached  in  the  morning  at  Moorfields  to  an  exceeding 
great  multitude."  Then,  as  if  he  had  done  no  great  thing,  he 
adds,  "  Went  to  Christ-Church,  and  heard  Dr.  Trapp  preach 
most  virulently  against  me  and  my  friends,  from  these  words, 
4  Be  not  righteous  over-much.'  God  gave  me  great  serenity 
of  mind  ;  but,  alas,  the  preacher  was  not  so  calm  as  I  wished 
him." 

It  is  remarkable  that  none  of  his  letters,  at  this  time,  refer 
to  the  enterprise.  Two  days  before  it,  he  wrote  to  a  friend, 
"  To-day  my  Master,  by  his  providence  and  Spirit,  compelled 
me  to  preach  in  the  church-yard  of  Islington.  To-morrow  I 
am  to  repeat  that  mad  trick,  and  on  Sunday  to  go  out  into 
Moorfields.  I  preach  until  I  sweat  through  and  through." 
Even  his  diary  contains  nothing  on  the  subject  but  the  follow- 
in^  simple  note  :  "  Words  cannot  well  express  the  glorious 
displays  of  divine  grace  which  we  saw,  and  heard  of,  and  felt," 
this  day.  He  had,  however,  a  decided  opinion  upon  both  the 
measure  and  its  success.  "  All  agreed,"  he  says,  "  that  it 
was  never  seen  on  this  ways  before.  I  hope  a  good  inroad 
has  been  made  into  the  devil's  kingdom  this  day.  Lord,  not 
unto  me,  but  unto  thy  name  be  all  the  glory."     Journals. 

Even  all  this,  with  all  the  prospects  which  it  must  have 
opened  of  London  as  a  sphere  for  vast  usefulness,  did  not  di- 
vert nor  divide  Whitefield's  heart  from  his  "  poor  orphans  or 


WHITEFIELD'S     LIFE     AND     flMES.  89 

his  little  flock"  in  the  colony  ;  for  on  the  very  day  after,  he 
refused  to  preach  at  all,  that  he  might  devote  himself  to  their 
interests.  "  April  30.  Received  letters  from  Georgia  this 
evening,  telling  me  of  the  affairs  of  the  colony.  They  have 
a  melancholy  aspect  at  present ;  but  our  extremity  is  God's 
opportunity.     Lord,  thou  callest  me  :   lo,  Iconic!" 

"  For  several  months  after  this,"  says  Gillies,  "  Moorfields, 
Kennington  Common,  and  Blackheath,  were  the  chief  scenes 
of  action.  At  a  moderate  computation,  the  auditories  often 
consisted  of  above  twenty  thousand.  It  is  said  their  singing 
could  be  heard  two  miles  off,  and  his  voice  nearly  a  mile. 
Sometimes  there  were  upwards  of  a  hundred  coaches,  besides 
wagons,  scaffolds,  and  other  contrivances,  which  persons  let 
out  for  the  convenience  of  the  audience."  The  rising 
ground  on  Blackheath,  from  which  Whitefield  preached,  is 
still  known  as  "  Whitefield's  Mount."  After  his  death,  one 
of  his  noble  friends  (I  believe)  planted  it  with  fir-trees.  Many 
spots  in  the  country,  also,  are  thus  hallowed  by  his  name  : 
and  of  these,  none  is  more  hallowed  than  a  field  at  Gornal 
in  Staffordshire.  When  I  visited  that  "  hill  of  Zion," 
Whitefield's  Park  was  the  first  object  pointed  out  to  me, 
although  the  hill  of  Gornal  is  crowned  with  the  most  com- 
plete establishment  for  religious  instruction  I  have  ever  seen 
in  a  rural  district.  The  reason  was  obvious :  Whitefield  had 
laid  the  foundation  of  that  establishment.  And  Gornal  is  just 
the  spot  that  was  sure  to  arrest  him!  He  could  not  have 
looked  down  from  that  mount,  into  the  vast  cup  of  the  sur- 
rounding valley,  without  weeping  over  the  population.  He 
must  have  wished  his  mighty  voice  mightier,  that  he  might 
cry  down  to  them  all !  He  did  what  he  could ; — set  a  lamp 
upon  the  hill. 

But  to  return  to  the  metropolis.  He  was  much  disappoint- 
ed and  grieved  to  find  that,  notwithstanding  all  the  money  he 
had  formerly  obtained  for  the  London  charities,  he  was  not 
allowed  to  collect  for  Georgia,  except  in  a  few  churches.  He 
had,  therefore,  to  carry  his  "  begging  case"  into  the  fields 
with  him.  Gillies  says,  "  Having  no  other  method  to  take, 
he  was  obliged  to  collect  for  the  orphan-house  in  the  fields, 
or  not  at  all,  which  was  humbling  to  himself,  and  to  the  friends 
wno  assisted  him  in  that  work  ;  but  the  readiness  with  which 
the  people  gave,  and  the  prayers  they  put  up  while  throwing 
in  their  mites,  were  very  encouraging."  They  were  so,  for 
he  thus  obtained  upwards  of  a  thousand  pounds  for  his  orphan- 

8 


86  whitkfield's    life    and    times. 

house.  He  himself  says,  "  The  readiness  with  which  the 
people  gave  is  inexpressible ;  for  I  think  they  could  not  have 
expressed  more  earnestness,  or  taken  more  pains,  had  they  all 
been  to  have  received  an  alms.  One  sign  this,  I  hope,  that 
the  word  of  God  has  taken  hold  of  their  hearts." 

On  one  occasion  he  collected  in  Moorfields,  £52  19s.  Gd , 
"  of  which,  above  twenty  pounds  was  in  halfpence."  On  an- 
other, at  Kennington,  sixteen  of  £47,  was  in  copper.  He 
says,  "I  was  one  of  the  collectors;  and  methinks  it  would 
have  delighted  almost  any  one  to  have  seen  with  what  eager- 
ness the  people  came  up  both  sides  of  the  eminence  on  which 
I  stood,  and  afterwards  to  the  coach  doors  to  throw  in  their 
mites!  "  He  saw,  however,  how  all  this  would  seem  to  the 
Pharisees,  and  anticipated  them  thus,  in  his  public  journal  : 
"  Preached  to  nearly  sixty  thousand  people  in  Moorfields,  and 
collected  £29  17s.  8d.  and  came  home  deeply  humbled  with  a 
sense  of  what  God  had  done  for  my  soul.  I  doubt  not  but 
many  stdf-righteous  bigots,  when  they  see  me  spreading  out 
my  hands  to  offer  Jesus  Christ  freely  to  all,  are  ready  to  cry 
out, — '  How  glorious  did  the  Reverend  Mr.  Whitefield  look 
to-day,  when,  neglecting  the  dignity  of  a  clergyman,  he  stood 
venting  his  enthusiastic  ravings  in  a  gown  and  cassock,  and 
collecting  mites  from  the  poor  people  !  '  But  if  this  be  vile, 
Lord,  grant  that  I  may  be  more  vile  !  Ye  scoffers,  mock  on, 
I  rejoice,  yea,  and  will  rejoice."  (He  calls  them  "  Phari- 
sees," in  his  public  journal,  but  in  his  Life,  he  calls  them 
bigots  and  scoffers.) 

On  this  memorable  day,  he  received  the  first  letter  from 
Ralph  Erskine,  "  afield  preacher  of  the  Scots  church,  and  a 
noble  soldier  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,"  as  he  calls  him  then. 
He  had  added  to  this  record,  in  his  public  journal,  "  Oh  that 
all  that  are  truly  zealous  knew  one  another !  It  must  greatly 
strengthen  each  other's  hands."  Whitefield,  however,  did 
not  find  all  he  expected  from  this  mutual  knowledge  ;  and 
therefore  excluded  the  whole  record  from  his  revised  journals 
in  1750.  By  that  time  he  knew  more  about  the  Erskines  ; 
and  though  he  still  venerated  their  Christian  character  highly, 
he  was  too  honest  to  compliment  their  spirit. 

Amongst  other  coincidences  in  this  memorable  week,  hone 
gratified  him  more  than  the  grant  of  five  hundred  acres  of 
land  to  himself  and  his  successorsfor  ever,  for  the  use  of  the 
orphan  house,  by  the  honourable  trustees  for  Georgia.  "  They 
received  me  with  the  utmost   civility,   and  agreed  to  every 


whitefield's    life    and    times.  ^7 

thing  I  asked."  This,  be  it  remembered,  was  done  at  the 
very  time  when  all  the  city  was  moved  by  his  "  mad  trick"  in 
the  fields  ;  and  he  returned  the  compliment  to  the  Honourable 
Board,  by  leaving  them,  to  preach  that  evening  to  twenty 
thousand  people  at  Kennington,  where,  judging  from  the  collec- 
tion after  the  sermon,  he  seems  to  have  mentioned  the  grant 
made  to  him  in  the  morning,  "  At  night,"  he  says,  "  my 
heart  was  so  full,  that  I  could  not  well  speak.  I  could  only 
pour  it  out  in  awful  silence.  Oh  the  happiness  of  communion 
with  God  !  " 

It  was  also  at  the  height  and  heat  of  this  crisis,  that  he  en- 
gaged a  passage  for  himself  and  eleven  others,  on  board  the 
Elizabeth,  to  Pennsylvania ;  that  he  might  preach  the  gospel 
and  provide  for  the  orphan-house,  on  his  way  to  Georgia  : — so 
little  was  Whitefield's  original  purpose  affected  by  his  popu- 
larity. In  fact,  he  never  lost  sight  of  it  for  a  moment ;  for 
the  delay  in  sailing  arose  from  an  embargo. 

A  singular  incident  occurred  at  this  time,  which  Whitefield 
has  recorded  at  considerable  length  in  his  journals.  A  young 
man,  Joseph  Periam,  who  had  read  his  sermon  on  Regenera- 
tion, and  been  impressed  by  it,  prayed  so  loud,  and  fasted  so 
long,  and  sold  "  all  he  had  "  so  literally,  that  his  family  sent 
him  to  Bethlehem  mad-house.  There  he  was  treated  as  me- 
thodistically  mad,  and  as  "  one  of  Whitefield's  gang."  The 
keepers  threw  him  down,  and  thrust  a  key  into  his  mouth, 
that  they  might  drench  him  with  medicine.  He  was  then 
placed  in  a  cold  room,  without  windows,  and  with  a  damp  cel- 
lar under  it. 

Periam,  however,  found  some  way  of  conveying  a  letter  to 
Whitefield,  requesting  both  advice  and  a  visit.  Both  were 
promptly  given.  Whitefield  soon  discovered  that  Periam  was 
not  mad  ;  and,  taking  Mr.  Seward  and  some  other  friends 
with  him,  he  went  before  the  committee  of  the  hospital  to  ex- 
plain the  case.  Seward  seems  to  have  been  the  chief  speaker  ; 
and  he  so  astounded  the  committee  by  quoting  Scripture, 
that  they  pronounced  him  as  mad  as  the  young  man  !  It  must 
have  been  a  ludicrous  scene.  The  doctors  told  the  whole 
deputation  frankly,  that,  in  their  opinion,  Whitefield  and  his 
followers  were  "  really  beside  themselves."  It  was,  how- 
ever, agreed  that  if  Whitefield  would  take  Periam  out  to 
Georgia,  a  release  would  be  granted.  Thus  the  conference 
ended  ;  and  the  young  man  went  out  as  a  schoolmaster  at 
the  orphan-house.     There  he  was  useful  and  exemplary  to 


88  W  II  I  T  E  F  I  E  L  1)  '  S      LIFE      AND      TIMES. 

the  last  ;    and  when  he  died,  two  of  his  sons  were  received 
into  the  school. 

Whilst  the  embargo  continued,  \Miitefield  made  some  run- 
ning excursions  into  the  country,  with  great  success.  Before 
leaving  London,  however,  he  went  to  St.  Paul's,  with  the 
Fetter  Lane  society,  and  received  the  sacrament  as  "  a  tes- 
timony," he  says,  "  that  we  adhered  to  the  church  of  England." 
He  was  perfectly  sincere  in  this  ;  but  many  churchmen 
thought  it  a  strange  adherence,  when  he  went  from  St.  Paul's 
to  MoorHelds  and  Kennington  Common,  and  preached  to 
30,000  people  !  This  was  adherence  to  Christ  and  Paul 
only. 
IS^  After  spending  a  week  about  Northamptonshire,  where 
Doddridge  received  him  "  most  courteously,"  he  returned  to 
London,  and  added  Hackney  Fields  to  the  list  of  his  preach- 
ing stations.  There  he  made  that  tremendous  attack  upon 
"  the  impiety  of  the  litter-learned  teachers,  who  count  the 
doctrine  of  the  new  birth  enthusiasm,"  which  drew  upon  him 
the  wrath  of  the  clergy.  "  I  could  not  help,"  he  says,  "  ex- 
posing the  impiety  of  these  vile  teachers,  who  say  we  are  not 
now  to  receive  the  Holy  Ghost.  Out  of  your  own  mouths  I 
will  condemn  you,  ye  blind  guides  !  Did  you  not,  at  the  time 
of  ordination,  tell  the  bishop  that  you — were  inwardly  moved 
by  the  Holy  Ghost,  to  take  upon  you  the  administration  of  the 
church?  Surely  at  that  time  you  acted  the  part  of  Ananias 
and  Sapphira  over  again.  Surely,  says  Bishop  Burnet,  you 
lied  not  only  unto  man  but  unto  God." 

This  is  the  revised  form  of  the  charge.  As  he  first  pub- 
lished it,  he  did  not  quote  Burnet,  nor  use  the  word  "  vile." 
That  word  he  substituted  for  the  epithet  "  letter-learned,"  be- 
cause Warburton  and  others  represented  him  as  a  despiser  of 
learning. 

The  first  answer  given  to  his  sermon  on  Regeneration,  was 
by  Tristram  Land,  A.  M.,  curate  of  St.  James's,  Garlick- 
hithe.  "Whitefield  deemed  it  unworthy  of  notice.  I  do  not. 
It  is  a  fair  specimen  of  the  general  tone  of  sentiment  and  feel- 
ing at  the  time.  It  was  written  in  1737,  although  not  pub- 
lished ("for  private  reasons")  until  1739;  by  which  time, 
Whitefield  and  Wesley  had  compelled  theologians,  at  least,  to 
mask  their  battery  somewhat,  in  assailing  the  doctrine  of  the 
new  birth.  Tristram,  however,  has  nothing  to  conceal. 
With  inimitable  inanity  and  frankness,  he  says  to  Whitefield, 
"  I  hope  you  '11  please  to  alter  your  practice,  and  no  longer 


whitefield's   life   and   times.  89 

preach  up  the  necessity  of  the  new  birth,  until  you  better  un- 
derstand the  nature  and  commencement  of  it  :  for  to  tell 
Christians  they  must  be  born  again,  who  in  the  soundest  sense 
were  born  again  in  their  infancy,  is,  at  least,  a  great  impro- 
priety. And  besides,  your  time  would  be  much  better  spent, 
after  having  given  so  much  just  occasion  of  offence  to  your 
brethren,  if,  instead  of  regeneration,  you  insist  more  upon  re- 
pentance and  amendment. 

"  You  tell  your  readers,  '  It  is  plain  beyond  all  contradic- 
tion, that  comparatively  but  few  of  those  that  are  born  of  wa- 
ter are  born  of  the  Spirit  likewise  ;  or,  to  use  another  Scrip- 
tural way  of  speaking,  many  of  those  that  are  baptized  with 
water,  are  not  effectually,  at  least,  baptized  with  the  Holy 
Ghost.'  But  prithee,  sir,  attend  now  to  these  few  following 
places  which  I  set  before  you,  to  confront  your  ill-grounded 
assertion."  Tristram  then  quotes  the  Office  of  Baptism,  and 
the  Kubrick  at  the  end  of  it,  and  adds  triumphantly,  "  All  this, 
sir,  I  take  to  be  direct  evidence  against  you,  not  to  be  evaded 
by  the  word  "  effectually,"  with  which  you  thought  proper  to 
guard  your  assertion.  All  the  members  of  our  church  were 
baptized  in  infancy.  She  declares  them  regenerate ;  and 
gives  hearty  thanks  to  God,  that  it  has  pleased  him  to  rege- 
nerate such  infants  with  his  Holy  Spirit.  The  church  sup- 
poses they  have  already  been  born  again,  and  so  does  not 
command  them  to  be  baptized  or  born  again  a  second  time  : 
for  to  be  born  more  than  once  in  a  spiritual  sense,  is  just  as 
impossible  as  to  be  born  twice  in  a  natural. 

"  Perhaps,  sir,  at  another  opportunity,  I  may  make  it  my 
business  to  point  out  some  more  mistakes  in  your  writings 
and  conduct  ;  but  if  I  should  not,  I  dare  say  you  '11  excuse 
your  humble  servant,  Tristram  Land." 

When  Whitefield  read  this  letter,  he  wrote  in  his  diary, 
"  Thou  shalt  answer  for  me,  O  Lord."  He  saw  that  it  was 
unanswerable,  if  the  Office  of  Baptism,  and  the  Catechism, 
be  true  ;  and  he  was  not  prepared  then  to  impeach  them  by 
name. 

The  clergy  seem  to  have  been  ashamed  of  the  bald  defence 
published  by  this  honest — "  Fellow  of  Clare  Hall,  Camr 
bridge  :  "  for  Whitefield's  next  opponent,  on  this  subject,  was 
no  less  a  person  than  Dr.  Stebbing,  his  Majesty's  chaplain  in 
ordinary,  and  preacher  to  the  honourable  society  of  Gray's 
Inn.  (At  both  Gray's  and  Lincoln's  Inn,  sermons  against 
Whitefield  and  Wesley  seem  to  have  been  popular  amongst 
8* 


90  white  field's   life    and   times. 

the  lawyers,  and  means  of  obtaining  preferment   at  court. 
See  Warburton*s.)     Dr.  Stebbing's  sermon,  entitled  "A  Cau- 
tion against  Religious  Delusion,"  went  through  two  or  three 
editions  in  1739.    It  is  the  production  of  a  scholar  and  a  gen- 
tleman ;  and  so  far  of  a  divine  too,  that  it  is  silent  on  the  sub- 
ject of  baptismal  regeneration.     Indeed,  it  is  a  dexterous  at- 
tempt to  prove,  that  the  new  birth  is  only  another  expression 
for  "  the  new  man,"  which  is,  the   Doctor  says,  the  figurative 
name  of  "  practical  righteousness."     This  sermon  the  bishop 
of  Gloucester  sent  to  Whitefield,  with  a  kind  letter  of  caution 
and  advice.     The  letter  itself  he  answered  with  equal  firmness 
and  courtesy  ;  but  the  Doctor,  without  ceremony.    "  Dr.  Steb- 
bing's sermon  (for  which  I  thank  your  lordship)  confirms  me 
more  and  more  in  my  opinion,  that  I  ought  to  be  instant  in 
season  and  out  of  season.     For  to  me,  he  seems  to  know  no 
more  of  the  true  nature  of  regeneration,  than  Nicodemus  did, 
when  he  came  to  Jesus  by  night.     Your  lordship   may  ob- 
serve, that  he  does  not  speak  a  word  of  original  sin,  or  the 
dreadful  consequences  of  our  fall  in  Adam,  upon  which  the 
doctrine  of  the  new  birth  is  entirely  founded.     No  ;  like  other 
polite  preachers,  he  seems  to  think  that  St.  Paul's  description 
of  the  wickedness  of  the  heathen,  is  only  to  be  referred  to  past 
ages  :  whereas,  I  affirm,  we  are  all  included  under  the  guilt  and 
consequences  of  sin,  as  much  as  they  were  ; — and  if  any  man 
preach  any  other  doctrine,  he  shall  bear  his  punishment,  who- 
soever he  be. 

"  Again,  my  lord,  the  Doctor  entirely  mistakes  us,  when 
we  talk  of  the  sensible  manifestations  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  In- 
deed, I  know  not  that  we  use  the  word  sensible:  but,  if  we  do, 
we  do  not  mean  that  God's  Spirit  does  manifest  itself  to  our 
senses,  but  that  it  may  be  perceived  by  the  soul,  as  really  as 
any  sensible  impression  made  upon  the  body.  But  to  disprove 
this,  the  Doctor  brings  our  Lord's  allusion  to  the  wind  ;  which 
is  one  of  the  best  texts  to  prove  it ;  for  if  the  analogy  of  our 
Lord's  discourse  be  carried  on,  it  amounts  to  this  much, — 
that  although  the  operations  of  the  Spirit  can  no  more  be  ac- 
counted for,  than  how  the  wind  cometh,  and  whither  it  goeth, 
yet  may  they  as  easily  be  felt  by  the  soul,  as  the  wind  by  the 
body.  But  he  understands  us  as  the  carnal  Jews  understood 
Christ,  when  He  talked  of  giving  them  thai  bread  which  came 
down  from  heaven.  But  the  Doctor,  and  the  rest  of  my  rev- 
erend brethren,  are  welcome  to  judge  of  me  as  they  please. 
Yet  a  little  while,  and  we  shall  all  appear  before  the  great 
Shepherd  of  our  souls  !  " 


whitefield' s    life    and    times.  91 

We  can  scarcely  appreciate  now  the  value  of  this  solemn 
and  decided  stand  for  the  (ruth  as  it  is  in  Jesus.  Had  White- 
field  conceded  an  iota  to  Stebbing,  he  would  have  stultified  his 
grand  object.  Regeneration  by  the  Holy  Spirit  had  to  be 
maintained  by  its  champion  then,  as  Luther  fought  for  justifi- 
cation by  faith  ; — giving  no  quarter  to  the  vulgar  or  the  re- 
fined opponents  of  it.  Stebbing's  sermon  could  do  no  injury 
now.  It  is  even  calculated  to  do  real  good,  wherever  more 
stress  is  laid  upon  strong  emotions,  than  upon  personal  holi- 
ness ;  but  then,  it  was  as  much  a  moral  "  go-by"  to  the  ques- 
tion, as  baptism  was  a  ceremonial  one.  Whitefield  had,  there- 
fore, no  alternative  but  to  abandon  the  necessity  of  spiritual 
conversion,  or  to  refute  Stebbing. 

His  next  opponent,  at  this  time,  was  the  bishop  of  London, 
who  made  him,  he  says,  "  the  chief  subject  matter  "  of  a  pas- 
toral letter.  That  letter  charges  him  with  "  professing  to 
plant  and  propagate  a  new  gospel,  unknown  to  the  generality 
of  ministers  and  people,  in  a  Christian  country."  Whitefield, 
very  properly,  admits  the  charge.  "  Mine  is  a  new  gospel — 
and  will  be  always  unknown  to  the  generality,  if  your  lord- 
ship's clergy  follow  your  lordship's  directions.  Your  lord- 
ship exhorts  your  clergy  to  preach  justification  by  faith  alone, 
and  quotes  the  11th  Article  of  our  church,  which  tells  us,  we 
are  'justified  by  faith  only,  and  not  for  our  works  or  deserv- 
ings  :  '  at  the  same  time,  your  lordship  bids  them  '  explain  it 
in  such  a  manner,  as  to  leave  no  doubt  upon  their  minds, 
whether  good  works  are  a  necessary  condition  of  their  being 
justified  in  the  sight  of  God.'  Your  lordship,  in  my  opinion, 
could  not  well  be  guilty  of  a  greater  inconsistency.  This, 
my  lord,  is  truly  a  new  gospel  !  It  is  as  contrary  to  the 
doctrine  of  the  church  of  England,  as  light  is  contrary  to 
darkness." 

This  reply,  happily,  committed  Whitefield  as  fully  upon  the 
question  of  justification,  as  his  letter  to  the  bishop  of  Glou- 
cester had  upon  the  question  of  regeneration :  for,  until  Gib- 
son's Letter  appeared,  Whitefield  himself  had  but  confused 
notions  of  the  subject.  But  the  bishop's  errors  made  him 
aware  of  his  own  mistakes.  In  his  early  sermons,  he  had 
used  such  expressions  as,  "washing  away  the  guilt  of  sin,  by 
the  tears  of  a  sincere  repentance,  joined  with  faith  in  the 
blood  of  Christ ;  "  "  depending  on  the  righteousness  of  Christ 
imputed  to  and  inherent  in  "  us ;  "  things  necessary  to  qualify 
us  for  being  savingly  in  Christ."     The  fact  is,  he  had  not 


92         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

"  read  a  single  book  on  the  doctrine  of  free  justification," 
when  he  began  to  preach.  "  No  wonder,  then,"  he  says, 
"that  I  was  not  so  clear  in  some  points,  at  my  first  setting 
out.  I  think  it  no  dishonour  to  retract  some  expressions  that 
dropped  from  my  pen,  before  God  gave  me  a  more  clear 
knowledge  of  the  doctrines  of  grace.  St.  Austin,  I  think,  did 
so  before  me."  A  Letter  to  some  Church  Members  of  the 
Presbyterian  Persuasion.  New-York,  1740.  Both  Ameri- 
can and  Scotch  presbytcrians  helped  to  teach  him  "  the  way 
of  God  more  perfectly,"  at  this  time.  Dr.  "Watts  also  had 
some  influence  upon  him,  about  this  time  ;  although  less  than 
he  wished.  The  doctor  did  not,  indeed,  take  any  public  part 
in  the  controversy  ;  but  he  privately  sustained  Bishop  Gibson, 
and  thus  placed  himself  in  a  false  position,  which  for  ever 
after  prevented  him  from  being  more  than  the  private  friend 
of  Whitefield.  The  bishop  had  sent  him  a  copy  of  his  Pas- 
toral Letter  against  Whitefield  :  and,  in  answer  to  it,  he 
says,  "  Your  lordship's  distinction  of  the  ordinary  and  extra- 
ordinary influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit  is  so  very  necessary, 
that  I  think  the  New  Testament  cannot  be  understood  with- 
out it :  and  I  wish  Mr.  ^Vhitefield  would  not  have  risen  above 
any  pretence  to  the  ordinary  influence,  unless  he  could  have 
given  better  evidences  of  it.  He  has  acknowledged  to  me  in 
conversation,  that  it  is  such  an  impression  upon  his  own  mind, 
that  he  knows  to  be  divine,  though  he  cannot  give  me  any 
convincing  proof  of  it. 

"  I  said  many  things  to  warn  him  of  the  danger  of  delusion, 
and  to  guard  him  against  the  irregularities  and  imprudences 
which  youth  and  zeal  might  lead  him  into ;  and  told  him 
plainly,  that  though  I  believed  him  very  sincere,  and  desiring 
to  do  good  to  souls,  yet  I  was  not  convinced  of  any  extraor- 
dinary call  he  had  to  some  parts  of  his  conduct : — and  he 
seemed  to  take  this  free  discourse  in  a  very  candid  manner." 
Milner's  Life  of  Watts,  p.  638.  In  an  evil  hour  this  was 
written  ;  for  however  true,  it  was  ill  timed.  No  matter  that 
the  letter  contains  some  faithful  remonstrances  to  the  bishop, 
about  his  clergy :  it  contains  none  against  Gibson's  "  new 
gospel,"  as  Whitefield  well  calls  it ;  and  it  abets  him  (unin- 
tentionally, indeed)  in  confounding  regeneration  with  the  ex- 
traordinary influences  of  the  Spirit.  For  that  was  the  real 
point  at  issue  between  Gibson  and  Whitefield.  Accordingly, 
Gibson  took  the  letter  in  good  part.  He  wrote  thus :  "  Good 
sir,  it  had  been  well  for  Mr.  Whitefield,  if  he  had  taken  the 


whitefield's    life    and    times.  03 

wise  advice  and  cautions  you  gave  him  :  but  from  the  time 
that  men  imagine  themselves  singled  out  by  God  for  extraor- 
dinary purposes,  and  in  consequence  of  that,  to  be  guided  by 
extraordinary  impulses  and  operations,  all  human  advice  is 
lost  upon  them. — I  am,  with  great  affection  and  esteem,  your 
very  faithful  servant,  Edih.  Lond." 

Watts  did  not  see  the  bearing  of  all  this  ;  but  it  so  com- 
mitted him  upon  the  bishop's  side  of  the  question,  that  he 
could  not  espouse  Whitefield's  side  of  it  publicly,  eyen  wh<  n 
that  was  no  longer  encumbered  with  crude  notions  of  im- 
pulses and  impressions. 

This  incident  deserves  far  more  consideration  than  it  has 
ever  received.  It  is  often  asked,  with  wonder,  why  the  ortho- 
dox dissenters  of  that  time  did  not  rally  around  W'hitefield, 
and  open  their  pulpits  to  him,  when  he  was  excluded  from  the 
churches  %  The  author  of  the  "  Life  and  Times  of  Wratts  " 
says,  "The  co-operation  of  such  men  as  Watts  and  Dodd- 
ridge was  forfeited  by  the  want  of  a  conciliating  spirit,  and 
the  good  will  they  tendered  was  lost  by  causeless  and  impru- 
dent reflections"  (on  the  part  of  the  Methodists.)  "W'hen 
their  churches  were  denounced  as  companies  of  banded  for- 
malists,— when  their  ministers  were  proclaimed  as  feeding  the 
flock  with  husks,  instead  of  salutary  food, — it  is  not  surpris- 
ing if  the  majority  stood  aloof,  or  retired  disgusted  by  the  ex- 
hibition of  such  censoriousness." 

But  what  has  all  this  tirade  against  the  methodists  to  do 
with  Whitefield  ?  He  never  spoke  in  this  manner  or  spirit 
against  Watts  or  Doddridge.  He  revered  and  loved  both 
from  the  first.  Milner  surely  does  not  mean,  when  he  says 
that  "W'hitefield  in  middle  age  saw  his  error,"  that  this  was 
the  "  youthful  intemperance  he  acknowledged."  He  did  ac- 
knowledge, with  great  candour  and  self-condemnation,  that 
he  had  spoken  both  hastily  and  harshly  of  many  ministers. 
For  this  he  publicly  asked  pardon  of  God  and  man.  But  it 
was  never  of  such  men  as  Watts  and  Doddridge,  and  espe- 
cially not  of  these  men,  he  had  ever  been  an  accuser.  In- 
deed, both  of  them  had  said  of  him  what  was  not  exactly  kind 
or  wise,  however  well  meant.  Doddridge  called  him  "  a  very 
weak  man,"  though  "  very  honest ;  "  and,  "  a  little  intoxicat- 
ed with  popularity."  He  might  also  have  found  "  a  more 
excellent  way"  of  appeasing  the  brethren  who  were  "  angry" 
with  him  for  the  respect  he  showed  to  W'hitefield,  than  by 
saying  to  Coward's  trustees,  "  I  am  not  so  zealously  attached 


94  whitefield's   life   and  times. 

to  him,  as  to  be  disposed  to  celebrate  him  as  one  of  the  great- 
est men  uf  the  age,  or  to  think  that  he  is  the  pillar  that  bears 
up  the  whole  interest  of  religion  among  us."  Letters  to  Dr. 
Wood  and  Nath.  Neal,  Esq.  vol.  iv.  This  was  playing  too 
far  into  the  hands  of  Whitefield's  dissenting  opponents,  just 
as  Y\  atts  conceded  too  much  to  Gibson.  Watts  went  so  far 
in  his  courtesy  to  the  bishop,  as  to  tell  him,  not  only  how  to 
"  make  all  the  Whitefields  less  regarded,  and  less  dangerous 
to  the  church,"  but  also  how  "  to  lessen  separation  "  from  the 
church  :  "  Induce  the  ministers  under  your  care,  to  preach 
and  converse  among  their  people  with  that  evangelical  spirit, 
that  zeal  for  the  honour  of  God  and  the  success  of  the  gospel, 
and  with  that  compassion  for  the  souls  of  men,  that  your  lord- 
ship so  much  approves  and  advises  in  your  pious  and  excel- 
lent charge."     Milner,  p.  631). 

All  this  may  surprise  some  :  but  the  fact  is,  that  the  dis- 
senters of  these  times  were,  in  their  own  way,  almost  as  great 
sticklers  for  "  order  "  as  the  bishops.  Field  preaching  was 
as  alarming  to  the  board  as  to  the  bench.  The  primate  would 
have  as  soon  quitted  his  throne,  as  a  leading  non-conformist 
his  desk,  to  preach  from  a  horse-block  or  a  table,  in  the  open 
air.  Indeed,  aggression  was  no  part  of  the  character  of  dis- 
sent, in  these  days.  No  wonder  !  Dissenters  had  been  so 
long  persecuted  even  in  their  secluded  and  obscure  chapels, 
that  they  were  glad  to  sit  still  under  their  vine  and  their  fig- 
tree  ;  thankful  for  their  own  safety,  and  neither  daring  nor 
dreaming  to  go  into  the  highways  or  hedges.  It  was  metho- 
dism  made  dissent  aggressive  upon  the  strong  holds  of  Satan. 
Indeed,  until  the  chief  of  them  were  carried  by  storm,  by 
Whitefield  and  Wesley,  dissenters  must  have  dreaded  all  co- 
operation with  methodism,  as  perilous  to  their  own  peace  and 
safety.  They  did.  Accordingly,  all  the  remonstrances  ad- 
dressed to  Doddridge,  by  Coward's  trustees  and  the  London 
ministers,  harp  chiefly  upon  the  string,  that  the  church  will 
not  think  so  well  of  the  dissenting  interest,  if  she  see  it  coun- 
tenancing Whitefield.  Doddridge  nobly  despised  this  fear  ; 
but  still,  it  was  long  and  deeply  felt  by  many  of  the  non-con- 
formists. This  was  not,  however,  their  only  reason.  They 
did  fear  for  their  own  standing  with  the  church  ,  but  they 
feared  more  for  the  ark  of  God  ;  which,  they  thought,  was  in 
danger  of  being  "  swallowed  up  in  a  sea  of  deism,"  if  the 
enthusiasm  of  methodism  obtained  countenance  "from  pru- 
dent Christians."     See  Neal's  Letters  to  Doddridge,  vol.  iv, 


whitefield's   life   and   times.  95 

Do  I  then  regret  that  Whitefield  was  not  adopted  by  the 
dissenters,  when  the  church  cast  him  out  1  No,  in  nowise  ! 
They  would  have  spoiled  him  by  their  orderliness  ;  and  he 
might  have  confused  them  by  his  splendid  irregularities. 
Ralph  Erskine  well  said  to  Whitefield,  "  I  see  a  beauty  in 
the  providence  of  your  being  in  communion  with  the  English 
church  .  otherwise,  such  great  confluences  from  among  them 
had  not  attended  your  ministry ;  nor,  consequently,  reaped 
the  advantage  which  so  many  have  done."  Preiser's  Life  of 
R.  Erskine. 

The  Scotch  dissenters,  the  Seceders,  would,  indeed,  have 
gladly  adopted  Whitefield,  if  they  could  have  had  a  monopoly 
of  his  labour  :  but  they,  too,  were  better  without  him.  His 
reaction  upon  the  secession  in  Scotland,  as  upon  the  dissent- 
ers of  England,  multiplied  and  strengthened  both  eventually, 
far  more  than  his  exclusive  services  could  have  done. 

This  digression,  though  long,  and  somewhat  out  of  place, 
will  be  found  useful  in  its  bearings  upon  his  future  positions. 
At  this  time,  however,  whilst  doctors  differed,  he  carried  the 
great  questions  at  issue  into  the  midst  of  "multitudes,  multi- 
tudes in  the  valley  of  decision  !  "  He  also  preached  fre- 
quently in  the  church  at  Bexley,  and  administered  the  sacra- 
ment. The  vicar  of  Bexley,  Mr.  Peers,  was  much  attached 
to  him  ;  but  was  compelled  at  last,  by  the  diocesan,  to  deny 
him  the  use  of  the  pulpit.  But  the  good  man  went  no  further 
than  the  letter  of  the  injunction:  he  employed  Whitefield  in 
the  desk,  and  at  the  altar,  when  he  could  no  longer  admit  him 
into  the  pulpit.  "Read  prayers  and  assisted  in  administering 
the  sacrament  at  Bexley  Church.  Many  came  from  far,  and 
expected  to  hear  me."  The  pulpit  being  denied,  "I  preached 
in  the  afternoon,  in  Justice  D.'s  yard,  to  about  three  hundred 
people  ;  and  in  the  evening,  at  Blackheath,  to  upwards  of 
twenty  thousand,  on  these  words,  'And  they  cast  him  out.'' 
I  recommended  to  the  people  the  example  of  the  blind  beggar, 
and  reminded  them  to  prepare  for  a  gathering  storm  !  " 

A  few  days  before  this  expulsion  from  the  pulpit  at  Bexley, 
he  had  introduced  Mr.  Wesley  to  Blackheath.  This  afforded 
him  great  pleasure.  He  regarded  it  '  as  another  fresh  in- 
road made  into  Satan's  kingdom,"  that  his  "honoured  and 
reverend  friend,  Mr.  John  Wesley,"  was  "  following  him  in 
field  preaching  in  London,  as  well  as  in  Bristol."  "The 
Lord  give  him  ten  thousand  times  more  success  than  he  has 
given  me." 


96  W  II  I  T  E  F  I  K  L  D  '  S     LIFE     AND    TIMES. 

Next  week,  when  he  himself  went  to  preach  at  Blackheath 
in  the  evening,  instead  of  twenty  or  thirty  thousand  people,  as 
usual,  there  were  not  one  thousand.  This  arose  from  a 
report  that  Whitefield  was  dead.  He  does  not  explain  the 
report  in  any  of  his  journals  ;  but  merely  says  of  it,  "Where- 
ever  I  came,  I  found  people  much  surprised  and  rejoiced  to 
see  me  alive."  Next  night,  however,  the  heath  was  again 
swarming  with  thousands. 

On  the  following  day  he  went  on  a  tour  into  Gloucester- 
shire, for  nearly  a  month.  During  his  absence,  the  work  was 
carried  on  by  his  "honoured  friend  and  fellow-labourer, 
Charles  Wesley."  On  his  return,  he  says,  "  The  poor  souls 
were  ready  to  leap  for  joy,"  at  Kennington  Common.  At 
Moorfields,  "A  greater  power  than  ever  was  amongst  us.  I 
collected  £24  17s.  for  the  school-house  at  Kingswood." 

Whitefield  little  knew,  whilst  thus  occupied,  how  narrowly 
his  life  had  escaped  at  Basingstoke,  two  days  before.  He 
had,  indeed,  been  told  by  one,  as  he  went  out  to  preach  in  a 
field,  that  he  "should  not  go  alive  out  of  Basingstoke  ;  "  but 
he  heeded  not  the  threat,  as  he  had  claimed  protection  from 
the  mayor.  He  would  not,  perhaps,  have  thought  of  it  again, 
had  not  a  quaker,  at  whose  house  he  slept,  sent  the  following 
letter  :  "I  am  truly  glad  that  thou  wert  preserved  out  of  the 
hands  of  cruel  and  unreasonable  men.  Thou  heardst  of  the 
threatenings  of  many  ;   but  the  malice  and  blind  zeal  of  some 

went  further.     For  hadst  thou  went  to  my  Friend  H to 

bed,  or  elsewhere  towards  that  part  of  the  town,  (which  I  be- 
lieve was  expected,)  there  were  ten  or  twelve  men  lying  in 
wait  to  do  thee  a  private  mischief:  which  I  know  by  the  testi- 
mony of  one  of  those  very  men  ;  who  boasted  to  me — '  We 
would  have  given  him  a  secret  blow,  and  prevented  him  mak- 
ing disturbances.'  This  confession  came  out  to  me  in  the 
warmth  of  his  zeal;  as  thinking,  perhaps,  that  I  could  hate,  at 
least,  if  not  destroy,  (like  him,)  all  that  were  not  of  my  own 
party."     Revised  Journals. 

Gillies  has  not  mentioned  this  escape.  He  merely  refers 
to  the  "groundless  fictions,"  then  afloat,  about  Whitefield's 
murder  or  wounds  ;  for  report  killed  or  wounded  him,  when- 
ever he  left  London  for  a  few  days.  Gillies  has,  however, 
marked  a  coincidence  which,  although  I  durst  not  have  no- 
ticed in  the  way  he  has  done,  I  dare  not  altogether  suppress. 
He  says,  "The  bishop  of  London  laid  hold  of  this  occasion 
for  publishing  a  charge  to  his  clergy,  to  avoid  the  extremes 


whitefield* s    lif.e   and    times.         9? 

of  enthusiasm  and  lukewarmness."  And  that  the  charge 
was  ill-timed,  and  calculated  to  endanger  Whitefield,  cannot 
be  doubted  ;  for  he  was  made,  as  he  himself  says,  "  the 
chief  subject  matter"  of  it,  and  thus  held  up  to  public  odium  ; 
but  it  certainly  was  not  intended  to  injure  him,  except  in  his 
reputation  and  influence.  Bishops,  however,  should  take 
care  how  they  bark,  when  curs  are  inclined  to  bite.  AVell 
might  Whitefield  say,  at  this  crisis,  "  People  wonder  at  me, 
that  I  should  talk  of  persecution,  now  the  world  is  become 
Christian  :  but,  alas  !  were  Jesus  Christ  to  come  down  from 
heaven  at  this  time  he  would  be  treated  as  formerly.  And 
whoever  goes  forth  to  preach  the  gospel  in  his  spirit  must  ex- 
pect the  same  treatment  as  his  first  apostles  met  with.  Lord, 
prepare  us  for  all  events." 

But  if  he  saw  danger,  he  did  not  shrink  from  it.  In  one 
instance,  at  this  time,  he  almost  courted  insult,  as  well  as 
exposed  himself  to  it.  Having  heard  that  there  was  to  be  a 
horse-race  at  Hackney  Marsh,  he  says,  "  I  appointed,  pur- 
posely, to  preach  there,  because  the  race  was  to  be  in  the 
same  field."  He  did  preach  to  ten  thousand  people  ;  and 
"very  few  left  the  sermon  :  "  some  who  did  "  returned  back 
quickly,"  and  them  he  addressed  personally.  This  was  cer- 
tainly imprudent.  The  whole  affair,  however,  passed  off* 
quietly. 

Marybone  Fields,  and  Stoke  Newington  Common  then  be- 
came the  chief  scene  of  his  labours,  until  his  embarkation  : 
and  they  were  scenes  of  triumph.  Many  scoffers  were 
arrested  and  overpowered  by  the  gospel,  and  more  formalists 
roused  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come.  He  himself  has  not 
hazarded  any  computation  of  the  precise  number  of  avowed 
converts,  won  by  field  preaching,  in  and  around  London  ;  but, 
judging  from  the  time  he  spent  in  speaking  with  the  awakened 
during  the  intervals  of  preaching,  and  from  the  letters  and 
notes  he  acknowledges,  the  numbers  must  have  been  great. 
He  says  in  his  revised  journal,  at  the  close  of  this  grand  cam- 
paign to  win  souls,  "  Great  things  God  has  already  done  :  for 
it  is  unknown  how  many  have  come  to  me  under  strong  con- 
victions of  their  fallen  state  ;  desiring  to  be  (more)  awakened 
to  a  sense  of  sin,  and  giving  thanks  for  the  benefits  God  has 
imparted  to  them  by  the  ministry  of  his  word."  His  last  ser- 
mon, before  leaving  London  to  embark,  brought  so  many  of 
these  amongst  the  crowd  at  Kennington  Common,  and  they 
were  so  "  exceedingly  affected,"  that  he  was  "  almost  pre- 
9 


98  whitefield's  life  and  times. 

vented  from  making  any  application"  of  the  subject.  But 
whatever  was  the  number  of  his  converts  then,  Toplady,  who 
was  not  inclined  to  give  an  exaggerated  answer  to  the  ques- 
tion, "  Are  there  many  that  be  saved  1 "  gave  Whitefield 
credit  for  having  been, in  the  course  of  his  entire  ministry,  use- 
ful to  "  tens  of  thousands,  besides"  himself. 


whitefield's   life  and  times.  99 


CHAPTER    V. 

whitefield's  first  visits  to  the  country. 

Whatever  disadvantages  may  attend  the  mode  in  which  I 
trace  the  first  labours  and  influence  of  Whitefield,  the  divi- 
sions I  have  adopted  will  enable  the  reader  to  follow  him 
without  effort  or  confusion,  and  to  judge  fairly  of  each  of  his 
successive  spheres :  many  of  which  were  very  dissimilar, 
however  much  alike  were  the  effects  of  his  preaching  in  them. 
Besides,  it  is  much  easier  to  realize  the  changes  which  pass- 
ed upon  his  spirit  as  he  moved  from  country  to  country,  and 
from  spot  to  spot,  in  the  glory  or  gloom  of  circumstances, 
than  to  realize  places,  however  vividly  characterized  ;  for 
they  seldom  gave  a  character  to  his  preaching.  I  mean,  that 
he  did  not  exactly  adapt  himself  to  localities  ;  but  came  into 
a  new  field  in  the  spirit  he  had  left  the  old  one.  He  preached 
"  the  common  salvation "  everywhere,  although  with  varied 
power.  According  to  "  the  brook  in  the  way,"  he  "  lifted  up 
the  head."  He  came  to  London  under  the  Bristol  impulse  ; 
and  he  embarked  for  America  under  the  London  impulse. 
This  is  evident  from  his  journals.  He  had  no  plans,  but  for 
winning  souls  ;  and  these,  although  they  could  never  be  set 
aside  by  circumstances,  could  be  inflamed  by  them.  Ac- 
cordingly, whilst  the  vessel  was  detained  in  the  river  or  on  the 
coast,  he  was  never  idle.  Wherever  he  could  land,  he  preach- 
ed ;  and  when  on  board,  he  read  prayers  and  expounded 
daily  ;  just  as  might  be  expected  from  a  man  fresh  from  the 
impulses  of  London. 

His  work  in  England,  as  distinguished  from  London  and 
its  immediate  vicinity,  began  on  his  return  from  Georgia ;  and 
then,  he  was  full  of  his  orphan  school  :  an  institution  which, 
if  it  did  little  for  the  colony,  led  him  to  do  much  for  the  mo- 
ther country!  Humanly  speaking,  but  for  that  school,  and 
the  college  he  intended  to  graft  upon  it,  Whitefield  would 
never  have  traversed  England  as  he  did,  nor  visited  Scotland 


100        whitefield's  life   and   times. 

so  often.  It  compelled  him  to  travel,  and  inspired  him  to 
preach.  It  was  his  hobby,  certainly  ;  but  by  riding  it  well,  he 
made  it  like  "the  white  horse"  of  the  Apocalypse,  the  means 
of  going  "  forth  conquering  and  to  conquer." 

Having  been  ordained  a  priest  at  Oxford,  and  received  a 
"  liberal  benefaction "  from  the  bishop  of  Gloucester  for 
Georgia,  his  first  visit  was  to  Windsor.  There  he  could  find 
only  a  school-room  to  expound  in ;  but  such  was  the  impres- 
sion made  by  his  address,  that  he  exclaimed  on  leaving,  "  Not 
unto  me,  0  Lord,  not  unto  me  ;  but  unto  thy  name  be  all  the 
glory." 

Next  morning  he  went  to  Basingstoke,  and  expounded  to 
about  a  hundred  very  attentive  hearers,  in  the  dining-room  of 
the  inn  ;  but  on  the  evening  of  the  next  day,  the  crowd  out- 
side was  noisy,  and  threw  stones  at  the  windows.  This 
roused  Whitefield's  zeal  and  the  curiosity  of  the  town.  On 
the  following  day,  he  had  three  large  rooms  nearly  filled  ;  and 
although  some  interrupted  him,  many  were  so  struck  and 
overawed,  that  they  said  they  would  "  never  oppose  again."* 

At  this  time  he  visited  and  revisited  Dummer,  where  he 
had  once  been  so  useful  and  happy  amongst  the  poor.  "  I 
found,"  says  he,  "  that  they  had  not  forgotten  their  former 
love.  We  took  exceeding  sweet  counsel,  prayed,  and  sang 
psalms,  and  eat  our  bread  with  gladness  and  singleness  of 
heart.  How  did  Jesus  comfort  us  by  the  way  !  Monstrare 
nequeo  sentio  tantum  !  Lord,  melt  down  my  frozen  heart 
with  a  sense  of  thy  unmerited  love." 

From  Dummer  he  went  to  Salisbury,  and  there  visited  "an 
old  disciple,  Mr.  Wesley's  mother  ;"  but  found  no  opportu- 
nity for  preaching.  He  then  went  to  Bath,  with  the  hope  of 
preaching  in  the  abbey  church,  for  the  orphan-house,  the  trus- 
tees having  obtained  leave  of  the  bishop  ;  but  Dr.  C.  would 
not  permit  him.  "  He  was  pleased"  (so  Whitefield  expresses 
it)  "to  give  me  an  absolute  refusal  to  preach  either  on  that  or 
any  other  occasion,  without  a  positive  order  from  the  king  or 
the  bishop.  I  asked  him  his  reasons.  He  said  he  was  not 
obliged  to  give  me  any.  I  therefore  withdrew,  and  reached 
Bristol."  There  a  welcome  awaited  him  ;  and  he  felt  the 
difference.  "Who  can  express  the  joy  with  which  I  was  re- 
ceived 1 "  It  was  not  long,  however,  unmixed  joy.  He  was 
refused  the  use  of  Redclifi'e  church,  although  he  had  the  prom- 

*  See  Letter  51  ;  Works,  vol.  i. 


whitefield' s   life  and   times.  101 

ise  of  it.  The  clergyman  pretended  that  "he  could  not  lend 
his  church  without  a  special  order  from  the  chancellor." 
Whitefield,  with  his  usual  promptitude,  put  this  excuse  to  the 
test  at  once.  "  I  immediately  waited  on  the  chancellor,  who 
told  me  frankly,  that  he  would  neither  give  positive  leave, 
nor  would  he  prohibit  any  one  that  should  lend  me  a  church  ; 
but  he  would  advise  me  to  withdraw  to  some  other  place,  till 
he  heard  from  the  bishop,  and  not  to  preach  on  any  other  oc- 
casion. I  asked  him  his  reasons.  He  answered,  '  Why  will 
you  press  so  hard  upon  me  1  The  thing  has  given  general 
dislike.'  I  replied,  '  Not  the  orphan-house  ;  even  those  that 
disagree  with  me  in  other  particulars,  approve  of  that.  And 
as  for  the  gospel — when  was  it  preached  without  dislike? ' 

"  Soon  after  this  I  waited  upon  the  reverend  the  dean,  who 
received  me  with  great  civility.  When  I  had  shown  him  my 
Georgia  accounts,  and  answered  him  a  question  or  two  about 
the  colony,  I  asked  him,  whether  there  could  be  any  just  ob- 
jection against  my  preaching  in  churches  for  the  orphan- 
house  ?  After  a  pause  for  a  considerable  time,  he  said,  he 
could  not  tell.  Somebody  knocking  at  the  door,  he  replied, 
'Mr.  Whitefield,  I  will  give  you  an  answer  some  other  time  : 
now  I  expect  company.'  '  Will  you  be  pleased  to  fix  any 
time,  sir,'  said  I.  '  I  will  send  to  you,'  said  the  dean.  O 
Christian  simplicity,  whither  art  thou  fled  V 

Whitefield  himself  fled  that  afternoon  to  the  Newgate  of 
Bristol,  and  obtained  the  jailer's  permission  to  preach  there  to 
the  prisoners.  "  I  preached  a  sermon  on  the  Penitent  Thief, 
and  collected  fifteen  shillings  for  them."  On  the  following 
Sabbath  he  preached  at  St.  Werburgh's  church  to  a  large  au- 
dience. Even  St.  Mary  Redcliffe  was  open  to  him  soon, 
though  not  for  a  collection.  "  Blessed  be  God, — I  thought 
yesterday  I  should  not  have  the  use  of  any  pulpit  ;  but  God 
has  the  hearts  of  all  men  in  his  hands."  The  old  effects  ac- 
companied this  new  visit  to  Bristol.  "  Great  numbers  were 
melted  down.  Thousands  could  not  find  room."  He  thus 
verified  a  prediction  which  had  been  sent  from  London  to 
Bristol,  by  some  raving  blasphemer  ; — >"  Whitefield  has  set 
the  town  on  fire,  and  now  he  is  gone  to  kindle  a  flame  in  the 
country.     I  think  the  devil  in  hell  is  in  you  all." 

The  flame  was  kindled  in  Bristol  ;  and  the  devil  had  cer- 
tainly something  to  do  with  those  who  tried  to  extinguish  it. 
•*  The  chancellor  told  me  plainly,  that  he  intended  to  stop  my 
proceedings.     '  I  have  sent  for  the  registrar  here,  sir,  to  take 

9* 


102       whitefield's    life    and    times. 

down  your  answers.'  He  asked  me  by  wh;it  authority  I 
preached  in  the  diocess  of  Bristol  without  a  license  I  I  an- 
swered, 'I  thought  that  custom  was  grown  obsolete.  Whv. 
pray,  sir,  did  not  you  ask  the  clergyman  who  preached  for  you 
last  Thursday,  this  question? '  11<  said,  that  was  nothing  to 
me  !  "  Dr.  Southey  says,  that  Whitefield's  reply  to  the  chan- 
cellor was  given  "  without  the  slightest  sense  of  its  impro- 
priety or  its  irrelevance."  But  where  is  its  irrelevance  1  It 
is  certainly  quite  ad  rem,  whatever  it  may  be  as  etiquette, 
when  curates  argue  with  chancellors;  and  in  all  respects,  it  is 
more  gentlemanly  than  the  chancellor's  "  what  is  that  to  you." 
That  is  real  vulgarity. 

The  Doctor  narrates  the  remainder  of  this  high-church 
scene,  with  more  discrimination.  "  The  chancellor  then  read 
to  him  those  canons  which  forbade  any  minister  from  preach- 
ing in  a  private  house.  Whitefield  answered,  he  apprehended 
they  did  not  apply  to  professed  ministers  of  the  church  of 
England.  When  he  was  informed  of  his  mistake,  he  said, — 
'  There  is  also  a  canon  forbidding  all  clergymen  to  frequent 
taverns  and  play  at  cards  :  why  is  not  that  put  in  execution  V 
And  he  added,  that  notwithstanding  these  canons,  he  could 
not  but  speak  the  things  he  knew,  and  that  he  was  resolved  to 
proceed  as  usual."  Now,  if  the  Doctor  pleases,  Whitefield  is 
as  unpolite  as  the  apostles  were  to  the  chancellor  of  the  Jew- 
ish sanhedrim  !  "  His  answer  was  written  down,  and  the 
chancellor  then  said,  '  I  am  resolved,  sir,  if  you  preach  or 
expound  any  where  in  this  diocess  till  you  have  a  license,  I 
will  first  suspend  and  then  excommunicate  you.'  With  this 
declaration  of  war  they  parted  ;  but  the  advantage  was  wholly 
on  the  side  of  Whitefield ;  for  the  day  of  ecclesiastical  disci- 
pline was  gone  by."      Southey' s  Wesley. 

Whjtefield  says,  they  parted  politely.  "  He  waited  upon 
me  very  civilly  to  the  door,  and  told  me,  "  What  he  did  was 
in  the  name  of  the  clergy  and  laity  [laity  indeed  !)  of  the  city 
of  Bristol ;'  and  so  we  parted.  Immediately  I  went  and  ex- 
pounded at  Newgate  as  usual !" 

The  unusual,  as  might  be  expected,  soon  followed  this  Bar- 
tholomew day  in  Bristol.  Ejected  from  the  churches,  White- 
field  betook  himself  to  the  fields  at  once.  "  All  the  churches 
being  now  shut — and  if  open,  not  able  to  contain  half  that 
came  to  hear — I  went  to  Kingswood,  among  the  colliers." 
There  he  took  his  station  upon  Hannam  Mount,  on  Rose 
Green,  and  preached,  not,  as  Dr.  Gillies  says,  from  the  ser- 


whitefield's  life   and  times  103 

mon  on  the  mount,  but  from  John  iii.  3,  on  regeneration,  his 
favourite  subject.  The  other  text  was  on  a  subsequent  oc- 
casion. "  I  thought,"  says  he,  "  it  would  be  doing  the  service 
of  my  Creator,  who  had  a  mountain  for  his  pulpit,  and  the 
heavens  for  his  sounding-board ;  and  who,  when  his  gospel 
was  refused  by  the  Jews,  sent  his  servants  into  the  high-ways 
and  hedges." 

In  thus  renewing  a  practice  which,  as  Dr.  Southey  says, 
"had  not  been  seen  in  England  since  the  dissolution  of  the 
monastic  orders,"  and  by  commencing  it  at  Kingswood, 
Whitefield  dared  not  a  little  danger.  The  colliers  were  nu- 
merous and  utterly  uncultivated.  They  had  no  place  of 
worship.  Few  ventured  to  walk  even  in  their  neighbour- 
hood ;  and,  when  provoked,  they  were  the  terror  of  Bristol. 
But,  "none  of  these  things  moved"  Whitefield,  although  he 
was  told  them  all  by  his  timid  friends.  The  fact  is,  the  chan- 
cellor had  told  him  something  he  dreaded  more  than  insult, — 
that  he  must  be  silent;  and  that,  he  could  not  endure.  In- 
stead of  insult  or  opposition  at  Kingswood,  however,  "  the 
barbarous  people,"  although  they  had  never  been  in  a  church, 
"showed  him  no  small  kindness."  His  first  audience 
amounted  to  nearly  two  thousand,  who  heard  him  with 
great  attention  and  decorum  for  nearly  an  hour.  His  third 
audience  increased  to  five  thousand  ;  and  thus  they  went  oh 
increasing  to  ten,  fourteen,  and  twenty  thousand.  On  one  of 
these  occasions,  he  says,  "  The  day  was  fine — the  sun 
shone  very  bright — and  the  people,  standing  in  such  an  aw- 
ful manner  around  the  mount,  in  the  profoundest  silence,  filled 
me  with  holy  admiration.  Blessed  be  God  for  such  a  plenti- 
ful harvest.  Lord,  do  thou  send  forth  more  labourers  into 
thy  harvest." 

Although  Whitefield  had  thus  drawn  the  sword  against  the 
obsolete  canons  of  the  church,  he  had  not  "thrown  away  the 
scabbard  ;"  for,  on  the  morning  of  the  very  next  day,  he 
waited  again  on  the  chancellor,  and  showed  him  a  letter  he  had 
received  from  the  bishop  of  London.  "After  usual  salutations, 
I  asked  why  he  did  not  write  to  the  bishop,  according  to  his 
promise?  I  think  he  answered — he  was  to  blame.  I  then 
insisted  on  his  proving  I  had  preached  false  doctrine,  and  re- 
minded him  of  his  threatening  to  excommunicate  me  in  the 
name  of  the  clergy  and  laity  of  the  city  of  Bristol.  But  he 
would  have  me  think — that  he  had  said  no  such  thing  !  and 
confessed,  that,  to  this  day,  he  had  neither  heard  me  preach, 


104       whitefield's    life    and   times. 

nor  road  any  of  my  writings."  Thus,  it  seems,  White- 
field  was  charged  with  heresy,  and  threatened  with  excommu- 
nication— and  that  by  a  chancellor  on  mere  hearsay  evidence! 
This  reply  to  Whitefield  was  surely  not  given  "  without  the 
slightest  sense  of  its  impropriety  or  its  irrelevance  !"  South- 
ey's  Wesley. 

He  wrote  an  account  of  this  shameful  affair  to  the  bishop 
of  Bristol.  "  To-day  I  showed  your  lordship's  letter  to  the 
chancellor,  who  (notwithstanding  he  promised  not  to  prohibit 
my  preaching  for  the  orphan-house,  if  your  lordship  was  only 
neuter  in  the  affair)  has  influenced  most  of  the  clergy  to  deny 
me  their  pulpits,  either  on  that  or  any  other  occasion.  Last 
week,  he  charged  me  with  false  doctrine.  To-day,  he  is 
pleased  to  forget  that  he  said  so.  He  also  threatened  to  ex- 
communicate me  for  preaching  in  your  lordship's  diocess. 
I  offered  to  take  a  license,  but  was  denied.  If  your  lordship 
ask,  what  evil  I  have  done,  I  answer, — none  ;  save  that  I 
visit  the  religious  societies,  preach  to  the  prisoners  in  New- 
gate, and  to  the  poor  colliers  at  Kingswood,  who,  they  tell 
me,  are  little  better  than  heathens.  I  am  charged  with  being 
a  dissenter !  although  many  are  brought  to  church  by  my 
preaching,  and  not  one  taken  from  it. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  give  your  lordship  this  trouble,  but  I 
thought  proper  to  mention  these  particulars,  that  I  might 
know  of  your  lordship  wherein  my  conduct  is  exceptionable." 
A  copy  of  this  letter  he  sent  to  the  chancellor,  with  the  fol- 
lowing note  ;  "  The  enclosed  I  sent  to  the  bishop  of  Bristol  : 
be  pleased  to  peruse  it,  and  see  if  any  thing  contrary  to  truth 
is  there  related." 

How  the  matter  ended  I  know  not ;  except  that  there  was 
an  end  to  Whitefield's  preaching  in  the  churches  at  Bristol. 
That  led,  however,  to  what  he  calls,  his  "  beginning  to  begin" 
to  be  a  preacher.  "  I  hasted  to  Kingswood.  At  a  moderate 
computation,  there  were  above  ten  thousand  people.  Tho 
trees  and  hedges  were  full.  All  was  hush  when  I  began. 
The  sun  shone  bright,  and  God  enabled  me  to  preach  with 
great  power,  and  so  loud,  that  all  (I  was  told)  could  hear  me. 

Blessed  be  God,  Mr. spoke  right — the  fire  is  kindled 

in  the  country.  May  the  gates  of  hell  never  be  able  to  prevail 
against  it !  To  behold  such  crowds  standing  together  in 
such  awful  silence,  and  to  hear  the  echo  of  their  singing  run 
from  one  end  of  them  to  the  other,  was  very  solemn  and 
striking.     How  infinitely  more  solemn  and  striking  will  tho 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        105 

general  assembly  of  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect  be, 
when  they  join  in  singing  the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb, 
in  heaven! — As  the  scene  was  new,  and  I  had  just  began  to 
be  an  extempore  preacher,  it  often  occasioned  many  inward 
conflicts.  Sometimes,  when  twenty  thousand  people  were 
before  me,  I  had  not,  in  my  own  apprehension,  a  word  to  say 
either  to  God  or  them  !  But  I  was  never  totally  deserted  ; 
and  frequently  (for  to  deny  it  would  be  to  sin  against  God)  so 
assisted,  that  I  knew,  by  happy  experience,  what  our  Lord 
meant  by  saying,  '  Out  of  his  belly  shall  flow  rivers  of  living 
waters.'  The  gladness  and  eagerness  with  which  these  poor 
despised  outcasts,  who  had  never  been  in  a  church  in  their 
lives,  received  the  truth,  is  beyond  description  !  Having  no 
righteousness  of  their  own  to  renounce,  they  were  glad  to 
hear  of  a  Jesus,  who  was  the  friend  of  publicans,  and  came 
not  to  call  the  righteous,  but  sinners,  to  repentance.  The  first 
discovery  of  their  being  affected  was,  to  see  the  white  gutters 
made  by  their  tears,  which  plentifully  fell  down  their  black 
faces  ;  black  as  they  came  out  of  the  coal-pits.  Hundreds 
and  hundreds  of  them  were  soon  brought  under  deep  convic- 
tion, which,  as  the  event  proved,  ended  in  a  sound  and  tho- 
rough conversion.  The  change  was  visible  to  all  ;  though 
numbers  chose  to  impute  it  to  any  thing  rather  than  the  finger 
of  God." 

Neither  the  .bishop  nor  the  chancellor  threw  any  hinderance 
in  the  way  of  this  mighty  work.  Would  they  had  helped  it 
on  !  What  an  effect  would  have  been  produced,  had  the 
bishop  preached  to  the  colliers  in  the  cathedral  !  They  were 
in  his  diocess,  though  without  both  a  fold  and  a  shepherd  ; 
and  he  was  more  responsible  to  God  for  them,  than  for  the 
dignity  of  the  episcopal  throne,  where  "  the  traditions  of  men" 
had  seated  him.  Prelacy,  if  above  "  the  work  of  an  evan- 
gelist,'' is  beneath  the  acceptance  of  good  men. 

Though  somewhat  embarrassed  at  first  by  his  novel  situa- 
tion, Whitefield  soon  found  himself  in  his  native  element.  In 
churches,  however  large,  there  was  not  room  for  his  mighty 
voice,  and  thus,  not  full  scope  for  his  mightier  feelings.  Both 
were  cramped,  although  he  knew  it  not,  until  the  horizon 
was  their  circle,  and  the  firmament  their  roof.  Immensity 
above  and  around  him,  expanded  his  spirit  to  all  its  width,  in 
all  its  warmth ;  whilst  the  scenery  touched  all  his  sensi- 
bilities. Then  he  knew  both  his  power  and  his  weakness. 
"The  open  firmament  above  me,"   says  he, — "the  prospect 


106         whitefield's   life   and   times. 

of  the  adjacent  fields,  with  the  sight  of  thousands  and  thou- 
sands, some  in  coaches,  some  on  horseback,  and  some  in  the 
trees, — and,  at  times,  all  affected  and  drenched  in  tears  to- 
gether ; — to  which  sometimes  was  added  the  solemnity  of  the 
approaching  evening, — was  almost  too  much  for  me,  and  quite 
overcame  me." 

In  recording  this  impressive  scene,  Dr.  Southey,  notwith- 
standing all  his  recollections  of  Bristol  scenery,has  not  ascrib- 
ed to  it  any  part  of  the  impression  made  by  Whitefield  upon 
the  people.  He  does  not  say  of  him,  as  of  Wesley,  that  "  he 
himself  perceived  that  natural  influences  operated  upon  the 
multitude,  like  the  pomp  and  circumstances  of  Romish  wor- 
ship ; "  and  yet,  Whitefield,  although  less  refined  than  Wes- 
ley, was  equally  alive  to  the  influence  of  scenery  and  seasons ; 
and  often  chose  situations  as  bold  as  the  amphitheatre  of 
Gwenap,  or  as  beautiful  as  the  groves  of  Heptenstal.  Wat- 
son never  wrote  with  greater  severity,  nor  with  more  truth, 
than  when  he  exposed  the  fallacy  of  ascribing  the  effect  of 
Wesley's  preaching  to  picturesque  scenery.  "  It  is  not  upon 
uncultivated  minds,"  he  justly  says,  "  that  such  scenes  ope- 
rate strongly."  Besides,  M  we  are  not  informed  how  similar 
effects  were  produced,  when  no  rocks  reared  their  frowning 
heads,  and  when  the  sea  Avas  too  far  off  to  mix  its  murmurs 
with  the  preacher's  voice  ;  when  no  ruined  castle  nodded 
over  the  scene,  and  when  the  birds  were  so  provokingly  timid 
as  to  hasten  away  to  an  undisturbed  solitude." 

Whitefield  could  turn  both  scenery  and  circumstances, 
whatever  they  were,  to  good  account.  On  one  occasion, 
whilst  preaching  at  the  Bristol  glass-houses,  he  says,  "  I 
heard  many  people  behind  me  hallooing,  and  making  a  noise  ; 
and  supposed  they  were  set  on  to  disturb  me  by  somebody. 
I  bless  God,  I  was  not  in  the  least  moved,  but  rather  increas- 
ed more  in  strength.  When  I  was  done,  I  inquired  the  cause 
of  the  noise  :  I  found  a  gentleman  (?)  being  drunk,  had  taken 
the  liberty  to  call  me  a  dog,  and  say,  '  that  I  ought  to  be  whip- 
ped at  a  cart's  tail ; '  and  offered  money  to  any  that  would  pelt 
me.  Instead  of  that,  the  boys  and  people  near  began  to  cast 
stones  and  dirt  at  him."  This  retaliation  Whitefield  reprobat- 
ed in  strong  terms,  before  he  left  the  ground  ;  slyly  remind- 
ing the  people,  however,  of  "  the  sorry  wages  the  devil  gives 
his  servants."  Some  days  after  he  visited  this  ungentlemanly 
disturber,  to  condole  with  him  upon  his  punishment.  The 
visit  was  well  received,  and  they  parted  "very  friendly." 
Journals. 


whitefield's  life   and  times.  10? 

After  some  hasty  trips  into  Wales,  from  Bristol,  he  went  to 
his  native  city,  where  the  congregations  were  so  large,  that 
the  clergyman  refused  him  the  church  on  week  days.  He, 
therefore,  preached  in  his  "  brother's  field "  to  the  crowd. 
He  felt  deeply  for  Gloucester,  and  threw  all  his  soul  into  his 
sermons,  that  he  might  "  save  some  "  where  he  was  born. 
"To-day,"  he  says,  "  I  felt  such  an  intense  love,  that  I  could 
have  almost  wished  myself  accursed  (anathema)  for  my  breth- 
ren according  to  the  flesh."  Such  was  his  zeal  to  win  souls 
in  this  city,  that  he  preached  alternately  in  the  Boothall  and 
the  fields,  almost  every  day,  during  his  visit.  This  encroach- 
ment upon  the  time  of  the  people,  drew  upon  him  the  charge 
of  encouraging  idleness ;— which,  with  his  usual  readiness, 
though  not  with  his  usual  prudence,  he  retorted  by  saying, 
"Ye  are  idle,  ye  are  idle,  say  the  pharaohs  of  this  generation  ; 
therefore  ye  say,  Let  us  go  and  worship  the  Lord."  He  was, 
however,  permitted  by  the  bishop  to  baptize  an  old  quaker  in 
the  church  of  St.  Mary  De  Crypt,  where  he  himself  had  been 
baptized  :  and  there,  he  did  not  confine  himself  to  the  book  ; 
but,  giving  way  to  the  emotions  awakened  by  the  font  where 
he  himself  had  been  presented  before  the  Lord  in  infancy,  he 
poured  out  his  heart  in  a  free  and  fervent  exhortation  to  the 
spectators  ;  "  proving  the  necessity  of  the  new  birth  from  the 
office." 

From  Gloucester  he  went  to  Cheltenham,  where  his  ac- 
quaintance with  the  Seward  family  began,  although  they  had 
to  follow  him  to  the  bowling-green  and  the  market-cross,  the 
churches  being  all  shut  against  him.  And  Oxford,  to  which 
he  went  next,  completed  and  sealed  this  expulsion.  "  The 
vice-chancellor  came  in  person  to  the  house  "  where  White- 
field  was  exhorting,  and  accosted  him  thus  :  " '  Have  you, 
sir,  a  name  in  any  book  here  1 '  '  Yes,  sir,'  said  I ;  '  but  I  in- 
tend to  take  it  out  soon.'  He  replied,  '  Yes,  and  you  had  best 
take  yourself  out  too,  or  otherwise  I  will  lay  you  by  the  heels. 
What  do  you  mean  by  going  about,  and  alienating  the  peo- 
ple's affections  from  their  proper  pastors  1  Your  works  are 
full  of  vanity  and  nonsense.  You  pretend  to  inspiration.  If 
ever  you  come  again  in  this  manner  among  these  people,  I 
will  lay  you  first  by  the  heels,  and  these  shall  follow.' "  It 
does  not  appear  that  Whitefield  returned  any  answer  to  this 
paltry  threat.  A  few  days  after  it,  he  preached  in  Moorfields  : 
and  from  that  moment,  he  cared  nothing  about  chancellors 
or  vice-chancellors,  when  they  stood  in  the  way  of  the  gospel. 


108        whitefield' s   life   and   times. 

In  the  course  of  his  short  excursions  into  the  country, 
whilst  the  embargo  prevented  him  from  sailing,  he  visited  01- 
ney,  where  he  was  "  not  a  little  comforted,"  by  meeting,  as  a 
field,  preacher,  Mr.  R of  Bedford,  who  had  been  both  ex- 
pelled and  imprisoned  for  preaching  the  Scriptural  doctrines 
of  justification  and  regeneration.  '*  I  believe,"  says  White- 
field,  "we  are  the  first  professed  ministers  of  the  church  of 
England,  that  were  so  soon,  and  without  cause,  excluded 
every  pulpit.  Whether  our  brethren  can  justify  such  con- 
duct, the  last  day  will  determine."  An  earlier  day  determin- 
ed the  question !  The  people  of  Bedford  had  made  up  their 
minds  upon  it  at  the  time :  for  thousands  assembled  regularly 
around  the  windmill  to   hear  their  expelled  minister  preach 

from  the  stairs  ; — "  Mr.  R 'a  pulpit,"  as  Whitefield  calls 

it.     Journals. 

During  this  journey  he  visited  Northampton ;  but,  al- 
though "  courteously  received  by  Dr.  Doddridge,"  he  had  to 
preach  upon  the  common,  "  from  the  starting  post."  Indeed, 
he  was  not  welcome  to  the  doctor's  pulpit,  even  when  he  did 
preach  there  afterwards.  Doddridge  was  so  far  from  "  seek- 
ing his  preaching,"  that  he  took  "  all  the  steps  he  could  pru- 
dently venture  on  to  prevent  it."  The  Doddridge  Diary  and 
Correspondence. 

The  clergy  having  thus  shut  their  pulpits  against  him,  and 
the  dissenters  not  opened  theirs  to  him,  the  country  magis- 
trates followed  in  the  train  of  his  opponents,  and  even  the 
inn-keepers  were  afraid  to  admit  him.  At  Tewkesbury  he 
found  four  constables  waiting  to  apprehend  him,  and  the 
whole  town  in  alarm.  Happily,  a  lawyer  in  the  crowd  de- 
manded a  sight  of  the  warrant ;  and  the  constables  having 
none,  Whitefield  determined  to  preach  at  all  hazards,  though 
beyond  the  liberties  of  the  town.  He  did  preach  in  the  even- 
ing, in  the  field  of  a  neighbouring  gentleman,  and  two  or  three 
thousand  people  attended.  Next  morning  he  waited  on  one 
of  the  town-bailiffs,  and  meekly  remonstrated  against  the  at- 
tempted outrage.  The  bailiff  told  him,  that  the  whole  coun- 
cil were  against  him  ;  and  that  a  judge  had  declared  him  a 
vagrant,  whom  he  would  apprehend. 

It  was  now  a  crisis  ;  and  Whitefield  determined  to  bring 
the  question  to  an  issue.  He  claimed  the  protection  of  the 
laws.  The  bailiff's  answer  was  equivocal :  "  If  you  preach 
here  to-morrow,  you  shall  have  the  constables  to  attend  you." 
Whether  this  was  a  threat  or  a  promise,  he  knew  not,  and 


whitkfield's   life   and   times.         109 

cared  not.  He  did  preach  next  day,  in  another  field,  to  six 
thousand  people  ;  "  but  saw  no  constables  to  molest  or  at- 
tend "  him. 

The  reports  of  this  affair  spread  in  all  forms  ;  alarming  his 
friends  for  his  safety,  and  preparing  his  enemies  for  his  ap- 
proach. At  Basingstoke,  the  mayor  (a  butcher)  sent  him  a 
warning  by  the  hands  of  a  constable.  This  led  to  an  amus- 
ing correspondence,  as  well  as  to  interviews,  between  the 
parties  ;  in  which  the  mayor  boasted  of  what  he  would  do, 
"although  he  was  a  butcher  ;"  and  Whitefield  told  him  what 
he  ought  to  do  as  a  magistrate. 

It  was  the  time  of  a  revel  at  Basingstoke,  and  many  of  the 
people  were  riotous.  Whitefield,  however,  preached  in  a 
field,  although  he  was  unprotected,  and  even  told  that  he 
would  not  come  out  alive.  Indeed,  it  was  confessed,  some 
days  after,  by  one  of  the  ringleaders,  that  a  party  were  pledg- 
ed to  "  give  him  a  secret  blow,  and  prevent  his  disturbances." 
He  was,  however,  only  grossly  insulted. 

The  fact  is,  the  magistrates  and  the  booth-keepers  were 
afraid  that  he  would  spoil  the  revel :  and  he  evidently  intend- 
ed to  preach  at  the  fair,  although  he  did  not  exactly  say  so ; 
for  he  repeatedly  urged  the  mayor  to  prevent  the  scenes  of 
cudgelling  and  wrestling  which  were  going  forward.  Failing 
in  this,  he  set  out  to  go  to  London  ;  but  when  he  saw  the 
stage  for  the  cudgellers  and  wrestlers,  he  could  not  proceed. 

The  following  account  of  his  "  mad  prank,"  is  too  charac- 
teristic of  him  to  be  suppressed,  although  he  himself  erased 
it  from  his  journals.  "As  I  passed  by  on  horseback,  I  saw 
a  stage  ;  and  as  I  rode  further,  I  met  divers  coming  to  the 
revel  ;  which  affected  me  so  much,  that  I  had  no  rest  in  my 
spirit.  And  therefore  having  asked  counsel  of  God,  and  per- 
ceiving an  unusual  warmth  and  power  enter  my  soul, — though 
I  was  gone  above  a  mile, — I  could  not  bear  to  see  so  many 
dear  souls,  for  whom  Christ  had  died,  ready  to  perish,  and  no 
minister  or  magistrate  interpose.  Upon  this  I  told  my  dear 
fellow-travellers,  that  I  was  resolved  to  follow  the  example 
of  Howel  Harris  in  Wales,  (he  had  just  come  from  a  tour 
with  him  in  Wales,)  and  to  bear  my  testimony  against  such 
lying  vanities, — let  the  consequences,  as  to  my  own  private 
person,  be  what  they  would.  They  immediately  consenting, 
I  rode  back  to  town,  got  upon  the  stage  erected  for  the  wrest- 
lers, and  began  to  show  them  the  error  of  their  ways.  Many 
seemed  ready  to  hear  what  I  had  to  say  ;  but  one  more  zeal- 

10 


110         wiiitefield's    life    and    times. 

ous  than  the  rest  for  his  master,  and  fearing  conviction  every 
time  I  attempted  to  speak,  set  the  boys  on  repeating  their 
huzzahs. 

*■  My  soul,  I  perceived,  was  in  a  sweet  frame,  willing  to  be 
offered  up,  so  that  I  might  save  some  of  those  to  whom  I  was 
about  to  speak  :  but  all  in  vain  !  While  I  was  on  the  stage, 
one  struck  me  with  his  cudgel,  which  I  received  with  the  utmost 
love.  At  last,  finding  the  devil  would  not  permit  them  to  give 
me  audience,  I  got  off,  and  after  much  pushing  and  thronging 
me  1  got  on  my  horse, — with  unspeakable  satisfaction  within 
myself,  that  I  had  now  begun  to  attack  the  devil  in  his 
strongest  holds,  and  had  borne  my  testimony  against  the  de- 
testable diversions  of  this  generation."     Original  Journals. 

The  reason  why  Whitefield  excluded  this  event  from  his  re- 
vised journals,  was,  perhaps,  the  tremendous  severity  of  the 
following  reflections.  "  Ye  masters  in  Israel,  what  are  ye 
doing?  Ye  magistrates,  that  are  gods  in  Scripture,  why  sleep 
ye  ?  Why  do  ye  bear  the  sword  in  vain?  Why  rount  ye  me 
a  troubler  in  Israel,  and  why  say  ye,  I  teach  people  to  be  idle, 
when  ye  connive  at,  if  not  subscribe  to,  such  hellish  meetings 
as  these,  which  not  only  draw  people  from  their  bodily  work, 
but  directly  tend  to  destroy  their  precious  and  immortal  souls? 
Surely  I  shall  appear  against  you  at  the  Judgment-seat  of 
Christ;  for  these  diversions  keep  people  from  true  Christianity, 
as  much  as  paganism  itself.  And  I  doubt  not,  but  it  will  re- 
quire as  much  courage  and  power  to  divert  people  from  these 
things,  as  the  apostles  had  to  exert  in  converting  the  heathen 
from  dumb  idols.  However,  in  the  strength  of  my  Master,  I 
will  now  enter  the  lists,  and  begin  an  offensive  war  with  Satan 
and  all  his  host.  If  I  perish,  I  perish  !  I  shall  have  the  testi- 
mony of  a  good  conscience  :  I  shall  be  free  from  the  blood  of 
all  men."  It  is  easier  to  find  fault  with  the  severity  of  this 
invective,  than  to  prove  that  any  lower  tone  of  feeling  could 
have  sustained  any  man,  in  grappling  with  such  national  enor- 
mities. Whitefield  struck  the  first  blow  at  them,  and  thus 
led  the  way  to  their  abandonment ;  an  issue  which  may  well 
excuse  even  the  wild  fire  of  his  zeal. 

Such  was  his  position  in  London  and  the  country,  when  he 
sailed  for  America  the  second  time*  He  then  left  enough  for 
the  nation  to  think  about  until  his  return. 


W  III  T  E  F  I  E  L  D'S      LIFE     AND     TIMES.  Ill 


CHAPTER  VI. 

WHITEFIELD     IN     WALES. 

The  following  singular  account  of  the  commencement  of 
methodism  and  dissent  in  Wales,  is  translated  from  the  "  Try- 
sorva,"  by  Johnes.  "  In  the  reign  of  James  I.  a  clergyman 
of  the  name  of  Wroth  was  vicar  of  Llanvaches,  in  Mon- 
mouthshire. Being  of  a  joyous  temper,  and  like  most  of  his 
countrymen,  passionately  fond  of  music,  he  was  sometimes 
carried  beyond  the  bounds  of  propriety  by  this  enthusiasm. 
On  one  occasion,  a  gentleman  with  whom  he  was  on  terms  of 
intimacy,  having  presented  him  with  a  new  harp,  fixed  a 
day  on  which,  in  company  with  some  friends,  he  would  visit 
him,  and  hear  him  perform  upon  it.  The  day  appointed  came, 
and  Wroth  was  anxiously  expecting  his  visitor,  when  a  mes- 
senger appeared  to  inform  him  that  his  friend  was  no  more  ! 
This  incident  affected  him  so  deeply,  that,  repenting  the  levi- 
ty of  his  youth,  from  a  gay  clerical  troubadour  he  became  all 
at  once  a  sad  but  zealous  divine.  With  these  impressions,  he 
determined  to  commence  preaching  to  his  congregation,  a 
practice  then  almost  unknown  in  the  churches  of  the  princi- 
pality. As  a  preacher,  he  soon  distinguished  himself  so 
much,  that  the  Welsh  peasantry  flocked  from  all  the  neigh- 
bouring counties  to  hear  him.  His  audience,  being  frequent- 
ly too  numerous  for  his  church  to  contain — on  such  occasions 
he  was  in  the  habit  of  addressing  them  in  the  church-yard. 
It  is  said  that  Sir  Lewis  Mansel,  of  Margam,  a  man  illustri- 
ous for  his  exalted  religious  and  patriotic  zeal,  was  often  one 
of  his  congregation. 

"  The  irregularity  alluded  to  at  last  exposed  him  to  the 
censure  of  his  diocesan,  who,  on  one  occasion,  asked  him,  in 
anger,  how  he  could  vindicate  his  infringement  of  the  rules  of 
the  church'?  To  this  reprimand  Wroth  replied,  by  appealing, 
with  tears  in  his  eyes,  to  the  religious  ignorance  which  pre- 
vailed throughout  the  country,  and  to  the  necessity  of  employ- 


112        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

ing  every  means  to  dissipate  it :  by  which  answer,  the  bishop 
is  said  to  have  been  deeply  affected.  Eventually,  however, 
by  refusing  to  read  the  '  Book  of  Sports,'  and  by  the  general 
tenor  of  his  conduct,  he  rendered  himself  so  obnoxious  to  the 
dignitaries  of  the  church,  that  he  was  deprived  of  his  benefice. 
After  his  expulsion,  he  continued  to  preach  in  secret  to  his 
old  followers,  and  at  last  he  formed,  from  amongst  them,  a 
regular  dissenting  congregation,  on  the  independent  model. 
From  Llanvaches,  the  opinions  of  its  pastor  soon  spread 
themselves  into  the  remotest  corner  of  Wales  :  during  his 
life,  this  village  was  regarded  as  the  rallying  point  of  the 
Welch  non-conformists.  Wroth,  nevertheless,  seems  to  have 
cherished  to  the  last  some  feeling  of  affection  towards  the 
church,  of  which  he  had  once  been  a  minister ;  for,  on  his 
death,  which  occurred  in  1040,  he  was  buried,  at  his  own  re- 
quest, under  the  threshold  of  the  church  of  Llanvaches. 
During  the  civil  wars,  which  broke  out  soon  afterwards,  the 
independents  were  not  only  tolerated,  but  predominant.  In 
Cromwell's  time,  an  attempt  was  made  to  get  rid  of  every 
thing  like  an  establishment,  and  to  substitute  a  few  itinerant 
ministers  in  its  place.  The  modicum  of  preachers  proposed 
to  be  given  by  this  plan  of  economical  piety  was  six  to  a 
county  ;  it  was  lost  in  the  House  of  Commons  by  a  majority 
of  two  voices.  It  was  felt,  however,  that  the  bright  thought 
was  too  precious  to  be  discarded  without  an  experiment;  and, 
accordingly,  it  was  partly  carried  into  effect  in  Wales,  under 
Hugh  Peters  and  Vavasor  Powel,  and  a  confiscation  of 
church  property  in  that  country  ensued,  to  an  enormous 
amount ;  for,  unhappily,  under  all  the  various  forms  of  civil 
and  ecclesiastical  polity  which  have  prevailed  in  England, 
the  Welch  church  has  been  treated  as  a  fair  field  for  experi- 
ments, no  less  injurious  to  the  general  cause  of  religion  than 
to  Wales. 

"  In  the  times  of  the  Stuarts,  dissent  from  the  episcopal 
church  became  once  more  an  object  of  persecution  ;  but  the 
ministers  of  the  Welch  non-conformists  still  continued  to 
traverse  the  wild  hills  of  the  principality,  braving  all  dangers 
for  the  sake  of  their  few  and  scattered  followers.  Their  con- 
gregations still  occasionally  met,  but  it  was  in  fear  and 
trembling,  generally  at  midnight,  or  in  woods  and  caverns, 
amid  the  gloomy  recesses  of  the  mountains. 

"  At  the  revolution,  these  dissenters  exhausted  their  strength 
by  controversies  amongst  themselves  on  the  rite  of  baptism  : 


V 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        113 

oa  which  subject  a  difference  of  opinion  had  long  existed 
amongst  them,  though  persecution  had  prevented  them  from 
making  it  a  ground  of  disunion.  Till  the  breaking  out  of 
methodism,  their  cause  continued  to  decline. 

"  In  the  year  1730,  there  were  only  six  dissenting  chapels 
in  all  North  Wales.  In  this  year  an  incident  occurred  which 
forms  an  interesting  link  between  the  history  of  the  early 
Welch  dissenters  (the  followers  of  Wroth)  and  that  of  the 
methodists,  connecting  together  the  darkening  prospects  of 
the  former  and  the  first  symptoms  of  that  more  powerful  im- 
pulse which  was  communicated  by  the  latter.  One  Sunday, 
Mr.  Lewis  Rees,  a  dissenting  minister  from  South  Wales,  and 
father  of  the  celebrated  author  of  the  Cyclopsedia,  visited 
Pwllheli,  a  town  in  the  promontory  of  Lleyn,  in  Caernarvon- 
shire, and  one  of  the  few  places  in  which  the  independents 
still  possessed  a  chapel.  After  the  service,  the  congregation, 
collecting  around  him,  complained  bitterly,  that  their  numbers 
were  rapidly  diminishing,  that  the  few  who  yet  remained  were 
for  the  most  part  poor,  and  that  every  thing  looked  gloomy  to 
their  cause.  To  which  the  minister  replied,  '  The  dawn  of 
true  religion  is  again  breaking  in  South  Wales, — a  great  man, 
named  Howel  Harris,  has  recently  risen  up,  who  goes  about 
instructing  the  people  in  the  truths  of  the  gospel.'  Nor  was 
he  mistaken,  either  in  his  anticipation  that  dissent  was  on  the 
eve  of  bursting  forth  with  tenfold  vigour  in  Wales,  nor  in  the 
man  from  whom  he  expected  this  result :  the  first  elements 
of  methodism  were  already  at  work  ;  Howel  Harris  was  its 
founder,  and  one  of  its  most  distinguished  champions.  Pro- 
perly speaking,  the  history  of  methodism  is  the  history  of  dis- 
sent in  Wales  :  before  entering,  however,  upon  this  interesting 
subject,  it  will  be  necessary  to  give  a  cursory  view  of  the 
state  of  the  church  in  Wales  at  the  time  of  its  origin,  as 
hardly  a  doubt  can  be  entertained  that  the  predisposing  causes 
to  methodism  were  to  be  found  in  the  inefficiency  of  the 
establishment. 

14  The  following  is  a  translation  of  an  'Account  of  the  State 
of  Religion  in  Wales  about  the  middle  of  the  Eighteenth 
Century.'  It  was  taken  from  the  mouth  of  a  very  old  Welch 
methouist,  and  published  in  1799,  in  the  •  Trysorva,'  a  Welch 
periodical,  edited  by  the  Rev.  Thomas  Charles,  of  Bala  ;  and 
I  have  high  authority  for  asserting  that  the  descriptions  it  af- 
fords are  in  no  respect  exaggerated."     Johnes. 

» '  In  those  days,'  says  the  narrator,  '  the  land  was  dark  in- 
10* 


114       whttefield's    life    and    times. 

deed  !  Hardly  any  of  the  lower  ranks  could  read  at  all.  The 
morals  of  the  country  were  very  corrupt ;  and  in  this  respect 
there  was  no  difference  between  gentle  and  simple,  layman 
and  clergyman.  Gluttony,  drunkenness,  and  licentiousness, 
prevailed  through  the  whole  country.  Nor  were  the  opera- 
tions of  the  church  at  all  calculated  to  repress  these  evils. 
From  the  pulpit  the  name  of  the  Redeemer  was  hardly  ever 
heard;  nor  was  much  mention  made  of  the  natural  sinfulness 
of  man,  nor  of  the  influence  of  the  Spirit.  On  Sunday  morn- 
ings, the  poor  were  more  constant  in  their  attendance  at 
church  than  the  gentry  ;  but  the  Sunday  evenings  were  spent 
by  all  in  idle  amusements.  Every  Sabbath  there  was  what 
was  called  '  Achwaren-gamp,'  a  sort  of  sport  in  which  all  the 
young  men  of  the  neighbourhood  had  a  trial  of  strength,  and 
the  people  assembled  from  the  surrounding  country  to  see 
their  feats.  On  Saturday  night,  particularly  in  the  summer, 
the  young  men  and  maids  held  what  they  called  '  Singing 
eves  '  (nosweithian  cann) ;  that  is,  they  met  together  and  di- 
verted themselves  by  singing  in  turns  to  the  harp,  till  the 
dawn  of  the  Sabbath.  In  this  town  they  used  to  employ  the 
Sundays  in  dancing  and  singing  to  the  harp,  and  in  playing 
tennis  against  the  town-hall.  In  every  corner  of  the  town 
some  sport  or  other  went  on,  till  the  light  of  the  Sabbath  day 
had  faded  away.  In  the  summer,  '  interludes  '  (a  kind  of 
rustic  drama)  were  performed,  gentlemen  and  peasants  shar- 
ing the  diversion  together.  A  set  of  vagabonds,  called  the 
1  bobl  gerdded,'  (walking  people,)  used  to  traverse  the  coun- 
try, begging  with  impunity,  to  the  disgrace  of  the  law  of  the 
land.' 

"  Such,  then,  was  the  state  of  Welch  society,  and  the 
Welch  church  in  the  middle  of  the  last  century ;  and  it  is  a 
singular  instance  of  the  impression  left  by  the  vice  and  levity 
of  this  period,  that  the  sounds  of  our  national  instrument  are 
still  associated,  in  the  minds  of  many,  with  the  extravagances 
of  which  it  was  formerly  an  accompaniment,  though,  apart 
from  adventitious  associations,  its  simple  and  pensive  tones 
are  certainly  far  more  congenial  with  devotional  feeling,  than 
with  levity  or  with  joy.  I  have  frequently  heard,  that  the 
late  Mr.  Charles,  of  Bala,  was  so  much  under  the  sway  of 
these  recollections,  that  it  was  quite  painful  to  him  to  remain 
in  a  room  in  which  any  one  was  playing  upon  the  harp. 

"At  first  sight,  nothing  would  appear  more  improbable  than 
that  methodism  should  find  proselytes  among  a  people  so  gay 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        115 

and  thoughtless,  as  the  Welch  of  that  period;  or  that  the  joy- 
ous group  which  assembled  at  Bala  on  a  Sunday  evening, 
should  become,  as  was  shortly  afterwards  the  case,  a  leading 
congregation  of  modern  puritans.  But  the  religion  of  the 
Welch,  and  their  fondness  for  national  music,  arose  from  the 
same  cause,  an  earnest  and  imaginative  frame  of  mind.  A 
disposition  to  melancholy,  disguised  by  external  gaiety  of 
manner,  is  characteristic  of  all  Celtic  nations. 

'  As  a  beam  o'er  the  face  of  the  waters  may  glow, 
Though  the  stream  runs  in  darkness  and  coldness  below.' 

"With  all  their  social  sprightliness,  the  Welch  were  then  a 
superstitious,  and,  consequently,  a  gloomy  race.  The  influ- 
ence of  the  church  had  confessedly  done  little  to  civilize  the 
people  ;  they  still  retained  many  habits  apparently  derived 
from  paganism,  and  not  a  few  of  the  practices  of  popery. 
Their  funerals,  like  those  of  the  Irish,  were  scenes  of  riot 
and  wassail.  When  the  methodists  first  came  into  North 
Wales,  the  peasantry  expressed  their  horror  of  them  and  their 
opinions,  by  the  truly  popish  gesture  of  crossing  the  fore- 
heads ;  they  also  paid  great  veneration  to  a  tale  called 
'Brenddwyd  Mair,'  (Mary's  dream,)  obviously  a  popish  le- 
gend. Children  were  taught,  even  within  my  recollection,  to 
repeat  a  rhyme  like  the  following,  as  soon  as  they  had  been 
put  into  bed  at  night : 

1  There  are  four  corners  to  my  bed,      . 
And  four  angels  there  are  spread  ; 
Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  and  John ; 
God  bless  the  bed  that  I  lie  on.' 

"  Some  of  their  customs  and  notions  were  extremely  fanci- 
ful. On  the  Sunday  after  a  funeral,  each  relation  of  the  de- 
ceased knelt  on  his  grave,  exclaimiming  'Nevoedd  iddo,' (lite- 
rally, Heaven  to  him,)  that  is,  '  May  he  soon  reach  heaven.' 
This  is  plainly  a  relic  of  the  popish  custom  of  praying  the  soul 
out  of  purgatory.  If  children  died  before  their  parents,  the 
parents  regarded  them  as  so  many  candles  to  light  them  to 
paradise.  When  Wesley  came  into  Wales,  he  found  the 
ignorance  of  the  people  so  great,  that  he  pronounced  them 
'  as  little  versed  in  the  principles  of  Christianity,  as  a  Creek 
or  Cherokee  Indian.'  To  this  declaration  he  adds  the  strik- 
ing expression,  that,  notwithstanding  their  superstition  and 


116       whitefield's    life    and    times. 

ignorance,  the  people  '  were  ripe  for  the  gospel,'  and  most 
enthusiastically  anxious  to  avail  themselves  of  every  oppor- 
tunity of  instruction  ; — an  interesting  proof,  that  the  necessary 
tendency  of  the  corruptions  of  the  Welch  church  to  produce 
the  consequences  which  have  since  ensued,  was  sufficiently 
ohvious,  even  to  the  cursory  view  of  a  stranger. 

"It  was  quite  clear,  then,  to  those  who  lived  while  metho- 
dism  was  yet  in  its  infancy  in  Wales,  that  the  country  was 
about  to  become  the  scene  of  a  great  religious  change. 
There  was  evidently  a  movement  in  the  minds  of  the  peo- 
ple— a  longing  for  the  extension  of  their  spiritual  advantages, 
which  would  ultimately  lead  them  out  from  the  establishment, 
unless  provided  with  food  from  within.  In  such  a  state  of 
popular  feeling  towards  existing  institutions,  whether  civil  or 
ecclesiastical,  it  often  happens  that  the  most  trivial  deviation 
from  ordinary  routine  becomes  the  basis  of  a  series  of  inno- 
vations, and  serves  to  impart  an  impetus  and  a  direction  to 
the  dormant  elements  of  disunion.  It  is  only  by  keeping 
these  considerations  steadily  in  view,  that  we  can  clearly 
comprehend  the  early  history  of  methodism  in  Wales,  and 
avoid  the  confused  ideas  that  are  sometimes  entertained  as  to 
the  conduct  of  those  with  whom  it  commenced,  and  the 
exact  date  of  its  commencement.  The  real  truth  is,  that 
the  separation  of  the  Welch  methodists  from  the  church 
took  place  by  insensible  degrees.  The  first  symptom  was 
an  unusual  and  somewhat  irregular  zeal  in  a  certain  body 
of  clergy  in  the  church  itself;  and  these  first  faint  traces  of 
irregularity  (which  probably  at  the  time  excited  little  notice) 
gradually,  and  in  the  course  of  generations,  widened  into  a 
broad  line  of  demarcation.  It  was  in  this  manner  that  the 
breaking  out  of  methodism  was  undoubtedly  hastened  by  the 
exertions  of  two  eminent  divines,  whose  only  intention  was 
to  infuse  new  vigour  into  the  established  church, — I  mean  the 
Rev.  Rhees  Pritchard,  and  the  Rev.  Griffith  Jones. 

"  The  former,  who  is  familiarly  known  to  his  countrymen 
under  the  name  of  '  Vicar  Pritchard,'  was  vicar  of  the  parish 
of  Llanddyvri,  in  Cacrmarthenshire,  in  the  time  of  James  the 
First  and  Charles  the  First. 

"  Of  the  particulars  of  his  life,  little  is  known,  except  that 
whilst  he  stood  high  in  the  estimation  of  his  countrymen,  as  a 
preacher,  he  was  at  the  same  time  an  object  of  peculiar  favour 
with  the  ruling  powers  of  the  day, — honours  which  his  coun- 
trymen in  recent  times  have  rarely  seen  enjoyed  by  the  same 


whitefield's  life   and   times.  117 

individual.  Though,  like  Wroth,  he  is  said  to  have  attracted 
numerous  congregations,  and  to  have  occasionally  preached 
in  his  churchyard,  still  he  had  the  good  fortune  to  be  made 
chaplain  to  the  Earl  of  Essex,  received  from  James  the  First 
the  living  of  Llanedi,  and  eventually  became  chancellor  of 
the  diocess  of  St.  David's.  As  a  proof  of  his  charitable  dis- 
position, and  of  his  anxiety  to  enlighten  his  countrymen,  we 
are  informed  that  he  gave  a  donation  of  twenty  pounds  a  year, 
charged  upon  land,  to  establish  a  school  in  his  parish  of 
Llanddyvri,  and  also  a  house  for  the  schoolmaster.  This 
endowment  (no  insignificant  one  in  those  days)  went  on  pros- 
perously for  some  time,  but  on  the  death  of  the  founder's  son, 
Thomas  Manvvaring,  son  of  Dr.  Manwaring,  Bishop  of  St. 
David's,  who  had  married  '  the  vicar's '  grand-daughter,  took 
possession  of  the  land  belonging  to  the  school,  undertaking 
to  pay  the  schoolmaster  himself,  which  he  did  for  a  year  or 
two,  and  then  withheld  from  it  all  support.  His  biographer 
adds,  that  in  16S2,  the  land  was  still  in  the  possession  of  the 
Manwaring  family, — and  that  the  school-house  had  been 
swept  away  by  an  inundation  of  the  river  Tyrvi ! 

«  But  the  veneration  still  felt  in  Wales  for  the  memory  of 
'Vicar  Pritchard,'  is  mainly  attributable  to  a  small  volume  of 
poems,  which  are  not  a  little  remarkable,  as  a  summary  of 
Christian  doctrine  and  duty,  at  once  simple,  poetical,  and 
concise.  No  book,  except  the  Bible,  has  been  there  so  much 
and  so  enthusiastically  studied  :  its  author  may  justly  be 
styled  the  Watts  of  his  native  country ;  and,  notwithstanding 
the  unhappy  divisions  that  have,  since  his  day,  distracted  her, 
the  undiminished  popularity  of  his  little  book  proves,  that 
there  is,  even  yet,  no  schism  in  the  principality,  as  far  as  the 
♦Divine  Poems'  of  'Vicar  Pritchard'  are  concerned. 

"  After  the  poet's  death,  his  works  were  collected  and  pub- 
lished by  Stephen  Hughes,  a  worthy  non-conformist,  who 
zealously  disseminated  them  through  Caermarthenshire,  and 
the  adjacent  parts  of  South  Wales.  In  almost  every  cottage 
where  the  Scriptures  were  to  be  found,  'the  vicar's'  little 
volume  occupied  a  place  beside  them  :  it  became  a  class- 
book  in  every  school,  and  its  most  striking  passages  passed 
into  proverbs  among  the  peasantry.  Hence,  at  the  beginning 
of  the  last  century,  a  spirit  had  sprung  up  in  certain  districts 
of  South  Wales,  that  formed  a  strong  contrast  to  the  general 
ignorance  which  at  that  time  pervaded  the  principality.  The 
effect  of  poetry   on  minds  left  unoccupied  by  other  reading 


118         whitefield's   life   and   times. 

has,  in  all  ages,  been  remarked  :  thus,  we  are  told  that  the 
great  Bishop  Bull,  when  bishop  of  St.  David's,  was  so  much 
struck  with  the  impression  made  on  the  minds  of  the  people 
by  the  writings  of  'Vicar  Pritchard,'  that  he  expressed  a 
wish  to  be  buried  in  the  same  grave  with  him  ! 

"Griffith  Jones  was  born  at  Kilrhedin,  also  in  the  county  of 
Caermarthen.*  Even  in  his  boyhood,  he  evinced  a  strong 
sense  of  religion,  which  has  sometimes,  though  erroneously, 
been  thought  incompatible  with  the  unformed  views  and  elastic 
spirits  of  our  earlier  years.  Like  Bishop  Heber,  he  might 
justly  be  termed  a  'religious  child  :'  whilst  yet  a  boy  at  Caer- 
marthen school,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  retiring  from  the  pas- 
times of  his  play-fellows  for  the  purpose  of  secret  prayer.  In 
the  year  1709,  he  was  ordained  by  Bishop  Bull;  on  which 
occasion,  he  experienced  marks  of  peculiar  kindness  and  ap- 
probation from  that  illustrious  prelate,  the  recollection  of 
which  continued  ever  after  a  source  of  gratitude  and  delight 
to  him.  In  1711,  he  was  presented  to  the  living  of  Llandeilo 
Abercowyn,  and  in  1716,  Llanddowror  was  added  to  it  by  the 
patron,  Sir  John  Phillips,  of  Picton  Castle,  in  Pembrokeshire, 
with  whom  he  was  connected  by  marriage. 

"  His  constitution  was  naturally  delicate,  and  he  describes 
himself  as  having  been,  in  early  youth,  so  much  afflicted  with 
asthma,  that  he  could  not  walk  across  a  room  without  pain 
and  difficulty  ;  but  his  was  a  mind  which  seemed  capable  of 
imparting  a  portion  of  its  own  energy,  even  to  his  debilitated 
frame  ;  as  he  advanced  in  life,  this  infirmity,  in  a  great  mea- 
sure, forsook  him  ;  and  of  this  we  have  ample  proof  in  the 
various  labours  he  accomplished. 

"  The  fame  of  Griffith  Jones  chiefly  rests  on  an  institution 
he  devised  for  the  diffusion  of  education  in  Wales,  still  known 
under  the  name  of  the  'Welch  Circulating  Schools.'  The 
main  feature  of  this  plan  is  the  instruction  of  the  people  by 
means  of  itinerant  schoolmasters.  It  was  first  suggested 
to  him  by  the  following  train  of  circumstances : — On  the 
Saturday  previous  to  sacrament  Sunday,  it  was  his  practice  to 
assemble  his  flock  together,  and  read  to  them  the  service  of 
the  church. 

"  At  the  conclusion  of  the  second  lesson,  he  would  ask,  in 
a  mild  and  familiar  tone,  if  any  one  present  wished  an  expla- 
nation of  any  part  of  the  chapter  they  had  just  heard  ;  and  on 

*  Trysorva,  vol.  ii,  p,  1. 


whitefield's   life   and  times.         119 

a  difficult  verse  being  mentioned,  he  would  expound  it  in  plain 
and  simple  language,  adapted  to  the  capacities  of  his  hearers. 
On  the  day  following,  before  admitting  communicants  to  the 
sacrament,  he  used  to  examine  them  on  their  ideas  of  Chris- 
trian  doctrines,  and  as  to  their  general  moral  conduct.  On 
these  occasions,  his  church  was  generally  crowded  :  numbers 
came  from  the  neighbouring  districts,  and  it  frequently  hap- 
pened that  twenty  or  thirty  persons  were  publicly  examined 
by  him  before  receiving  the  communion.  But  he  found  that 
those  who  were  likely  to  derive  most  benefit  from  this  plan  of 
instruction — men  who  had  grown  up  in  ignorance, — were 
deterred  from  attending,  by  a  consciousness  of  their  inability 
to  answer  the  questions  that  might  be  put  to  them.  To  reme- 
dy this,  he  made  a  practice  of" fixing  the  Saturday  before  the 
sacrament  Sunday,  for  the  distribution  among  the  poor  of  the 
bread  purchased  by  the  money  collected  at  the  previous 
sacrament.  Having  by  this  means  brought  them  together,  he 
arranged  them  in  a  class,  and  proceeded  to  ask  them  a  few 
easy  questions,  with  an  affability  and  kindness  of  manner 
that  immediately  removed  all  embarrassment  and  reserve ; 
and,  pursuant  to  an  arrangement  he  had  previously  made, 
these  questions  were  answered  by  some  of  the  more  ad- 
vanced scholars.  In  a  little  time  the  humbler  classes  be- 
came willing  and  constant  attendants  at  the  altar.  And  for 
the  purpose  of  still  further  grounding  his  flock  in  religious 
knowledge,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  requesting  them  to  commit 
to  memory  every  month  a  certain  portion  of  the  Bible.  Thus 
it  became  a  regular  custom  among  his  poor  parishioners,  to 
repeat  each  a  verse  of  Scripture,  on  receiving  the  bread  pur- 
chased with  the  sacrament  money. 

"This  system  of  examination  had  the  effect  of  affording  him 
a  very  clear  insight  into  the  notions  and  attainments  of  the 
peasantry,  the  result  of  which  was  an  opinion  that  preaching 
was  calculated  to  convey  only  vague  and  imperfect  views  to 
the  minds  of  the  poorer  classes,  unless  combined  with  cate- 
chising, and  other  methods  of  instruction.  Following  up 
these  impressions,  he  was  led  to  consider  the  incalculable 
benefit  that  would  result,  were  a  well-organized  system  of 
schools  extended  over  the  whole  surface  of  his  native  coun- 
try. These  were  the  steps  by  which  he  arrived  at  the  first 
conception  of  that  noble  machinery  which  he  soon  afterwards 
set  in  motion.  At  first,  it  would  seem,  that  he  looked  upon 
his  plan  rather  in  the  light  of  a  favourite  day-dream,  than  as  a 

t 


120  W  II  I  T  E  F  I  E  M) '  S     LIFE     AND     TIMES. 

project  which  had  the  slightest  chance  of  success.  Never- 
theless, he  had  too  much  '  moral  chivalry '  to  despair, — too 
much  of  that  imaginative  love  of  enterprise,  without  which  no 
great  impression  has  ever  been  made  on  the  people  with  whom 
he  had  to  deal.  Accordingly,  a  beginning  was  made.  In  the 
year  1730,  the  first  school  was  founded,  with  the  sacrament 
money  of  the  parish  of  Llanddowror;  and  it  answered  so  well, 
that  a  second  was  established  shortly  afterwards;  and  this 
again  was  attended  with  such  admirable  effects,  that  several 
benevolent  individuals,  both  in  Wales  and  England,  were  in- 
duced to  support  the  scheme  with  a  liberality  that  enabled 
their  founder  to  realize  his  fondest  anticipations.  The  Soci- 
ety for  promoting  Christian  Knowledge  voted  him  a  very 
generous  donation  of  Bibles  and  other  books.  Thus  sup- 
ported, the  schools  continued  rapidly  to  increase  :  from  an 
account  published  in  August,  1741,  that  is,  about  ten  years  af- 
ter their  commencement,  it  appears,  that  the  number  of  schools 
in  existence,  during  the  past  year,  had  amounted  to  128,  and 
the  number  of  persons  instructed  in  them,  to  7595.  The 
plan  on  which  Griffith  Jones  proceeded  was  simply  this  :  he 
first  engaged  a  body  of  schoolmasters,  and  then  distributed 
them  in  different  directions  over  the  country.  The  duty  of 
these  men  was  to  teach  the  people  to  read  the  Scriptures  in 
the  Welch  language,  to  catechise  them,  to  instruct  them  in 
psalmody,  and  to  promote  their  religious  advancement  by 
every  means  in  their  power.  They  were  sent,  in  the  first 
instance,  to  the  nearest  town  or  village,  where  their  assistance 
had  been  requested ;  and  then,  having  taught  all  who  were  de- 
sirous of  instruction,  they  were  to  pass  on  to  the  next  district 
where  a  similar  feeling  had  been  manifested.  In  the  course  of 
time,  they  were  to  revisit  the  localities  whence  they  had  at 
first  started,  and  resume  the  work  of  education  anew  on  the 
youth  who  had  sprung  up  in  their  absence  ;  and  thus  making 
a  continual  circuit  of  the  whule  country,  to  present  to  every 
generation  as  it  arose  the  means  of  knowledge,  and  the  incen- 
tives to  virtuous  principle. 

"Griffith  Jones  seems  to  have  been,  in  his  day,  the  most 
popular  and  indefatigable  preacher  in  the  principality.  He 
was,  in  consequence,  often  solicited  by  his  clerical  brethren 
with  applications  to  preach  in  their  puipits,  with  which  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  complying,  by  making  a  kind  of  tour  through 
the  neighbouring  districts  of  South  Wales,  and  preaching  in 
the  churches  as'he  passed.  Like  Wroth  and  '  Vicar  Pritchard,' 


W II  ITEFI  ELD'S      LIFE     AND      TIMES.  121 

he  would  sometimes  forsake  the  pulpit  for  the  tombstone  or 
the  green  sward,  when  he  found  the  church  too  small  for  his 
audience. 

"He  generally  managed  to  make  these  excursions  during 
the  Easter  and  Whitsun-week,  as  he  had  a  greater  chance,  at 
these  seasons,  of  falling  in  with  some  of  those  scenes  of  pug- 
nacious uproar,  and  drunken  frolic,  which  were  at  that  time 
so  much  in  vogue  in  his  native  country,  and  which  it  was  al- 
ways his  object  to  discourage.  When  he  met  with  one  of  these 
rustic  carnivals,  he  would  attempt  to  disperse  it  with  all  the 
arguments  he  could  employ ;  and  we  are  told  by  an  indivi- 
dual who  frequently  accompanied  him  on  these  occasions, 
that  though  the  beginning  of  his  address  was  generally  re- 
ceived with  looks  of  anger  and  churlish  disdain,  its  conclu- 
sion was  always  marked  by  symptoms  of  strong  emotion,  and 
by  an  expression  of  reverence  and  awe,  from  the  whole  as- 
sembled multitude.  The  great  number  of  persons  whose 
conversion  (and  I  use  the  word  in  the  sense  of  a  change,  not 
of  opinion,  but  of  conduct — a  fundamental,  moral  revolution 
of  the  motives  of  the  heart)  is  traceable  to  him,  furnishes  a 
strong  additional  proof,  that  there  was  something  peculiarly 
impressive  in  the  eloquence  of  Griffith  Jones.  His  bio- 
grapher has  very  forcibly  described  the  distinctive  excellence 
of  his  pulpit  oratory,  by  saying,  it  was  '  gavaelgar  ar  y  gyd- 
wybod,'  that  is,  it  possessed  a  'grasp  on  the  conscience ;  ' 
and,  he  adds,  that  the  commencement  of  his  discourses  were 
generally  familiar  and  unadorned  ;  but  that,  as  he  went  on, 
his  spirit  seemed  to  kindle  and  burn,  '  gwresogi  a  thaniaw,' 
with  his  subject.  Indeed,  his  merits,  as  a  preacher,  seem  to 
have  been  held  in  high  estimation  beyond  the  limits  of  his 
native  country ;  for  it  is  an  interesting  incident  in  his  history, 
that  at  one  period  of  his  life,  he  received  an  invitation  from 
the  Society  for  the  Propagation  of  the  Gospel  in  Foreign  Parts, 
to  become  one  of  their  missionaries.  Ultimately,  as  we  have 
seen,  he  decided  that  his  path  of  duty  lay  in  the  humble  land 
of  his  birth. 

"  After  accomplishing  a  variety  of  labours,  which  might 
have  seemed  quite  incompatible  with  his  delicate  health, — 
and  establishing  his  favourite  schools  in  almost  every  parish 
of  Wales, — this  excellent  man  breathed  his  last  in  the  month 
of  April,  1701,  leaving  behind  him,  in  the  religious  regenera- 
tion and  the  religious  gratitude  of  a  nation  of  mountaineers,  a 
memorial,  which  will  be  envied  most  by  those  who  are  at  once 

11 


122  whitefield's  life  and   times. 

the  greatest  and  the  humblest  of  mankind,  and  which  will  en- 
dure when  the  ostentatious  monuments  of  worldly  power  shall 
melt  away  '  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision.' 

"  It  may  now  be  asked,"  says  Johnes,  "with  what  degree  of 
propriety  the  rise  of  dissent  in  Wales  can  be  connected  with 
the  name  of  Griffith  Jones — a  man  whose  whole  life  was 
spent  in  exertions  to  render  the  establishment  impregnable 
against  dissent  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  more  fearful  en- 
croachments of  sin,  ignorance,  and  superstition,  on  the  other? 
One  answer  only  can  be  given  :  it  is  a  melancholy  truth — a 
truth,  nevertheless,  but  too  well  sanctioned  by  experience, 
that  a  few  pious  ministers  are  the  weakness,  and  not  the 
strength,  of  an  establishment,  when  the  majority  of  its  minis- 
ters are  sunk  in  indifference  to  their  sacred  duties  !  The  zeal 
of  the  few  only  serves  to  cast  into  darker  shade  the  apathy 
of  the  many;  and,  by  raising  the  moral  sentiment  of  the  peo- 
ple, to  make  them  more  sensitively  intolerant  of  the  abuses 
that  surround  them.  It  is  upon  this  principle  only,  that  we 
can  explain  whence  it  was,  that  methodism  broke  out  first, 
and  most  extensively,  in  that  division  of  Wales  where  the 
poems  of  Rhees  Pritchard  and  the  schools  of  Griffith  Jones 
had  exerted  the  most  powerful  influence.  And  hence  it  was, 
that  so  many  of  those  clergymen,  who  had  been  connected 
with  the  latter,  became  eventually  the  missionaries  of  metho- 
dism ;  and  it  may  also  be  remarked,  that  the  irregularities  of 
the  methodist  clergy,  which  led  in  the  end  to  systematic  itine- 
rancy, appear  to  have  begun  by  the  practice  of  preaching  from 
church  to  church,  which  they  seem  to  have  adopted  in  imita- 
tion of  Griffin  Jones's  'Easter  and  Whitsun  '  circuits." 

Whitefield's  connexion  with  Hovvel  Harris  of  Trevecca 
led  to  results  which  deserve  to  be  traced  step  by  step.  It 
began  by  a  letter  from  Whitefield  :  which  has,  happily,  been 
preserved  at  Trevecca.  "London,  Dec.  1738.  My  dear 
brother,  Though  I  am  unknown  to  you  in  person,  yet  I  have 
long  been  united  to  you  in  spirit ;  and  have  been  rejoiced  to 
hear  how  the  good  pleasure  of  the  Lord  prospered  in  your 
hands." — "Go  on,  go  on  ;  He  that  sent  you,  will  assist,  com- 
fort, and  protect  you,  and  make  you  more  than  conqueror 
through  his  great  love.  I  am  a  living  monument  of  this  truth." 
"  I  love  you,  and  wish  you  may  be  the  spiritual  father  of  thou- 
sands, and  shine  as  the  sun  in  the  kingdom  of  your  heavenly 
Father.     Oh  how  I  shall  joy  to  meet  you — at  the  judgment 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        123 

seat !    How  you  would  honour  me,  if  you  would  send  a  line 
to  your  affectionate  though  unworthy  brother,  G.  W." 

Harris's  answer  was  prompt  and  cordial.  I  am  happy  to 
be  able  to  furnish  extracts  from  it.  "  Glamorgan,  Jan.  bth, 
1739.  Dear  brother,  I  was  most  agreeably  surprised  last 
night  by  a  letter  from  you.  The  character  you  bear,  the 
spirit  I  see  and  feel  in  your  work,  and  the  close  union  of  my 
soul  and  spirit  to  yours,  will  not  allow  me  to  use  any  apology 
in  my  return  to  you.  Though  this  is  the  first  time  of  our  cor- 
respondence, yet  I  can  assure  you  I  am  no  stranger  to  you. 
When  I  first  heard  of  you,  and  your  labours  and  success,  my 
soul  was  united  to  you,  and  engaged  to  send  addresses  to 
heaven  on  your  behalf.  When  I  read  your  diary,  I  had  some 
uncommon  influence  of  the  divine  presence  shining  upon  my 
poor  soul,  almost  continually.  And  my  soul  was,  in  an  un- 
common manner,  drawn  out  on  your  account  : — but  I  little 
thought  our  good  Lord  and  Master  intended  I  should  ever  see 
your  hand-writing."  (In  his  journal  Harris  wrote,  "About 
this  time,  I  heard  from  a  friend  that  came  from  London,  of  a 
young  clergyman,  namely,  Mr.  Whitefield,  that  preached  four 
times  a  day,  and  was  much  blessed.  In  hearing  this,  my 
heart  was  united  to  him  in  such  a  manner,  that  I  never  felt 
the  like  connexion  with  any  one  before  :  but  yet  I  had  not 
the  least  prospect  of  ever  seeing  him  ;  being  informed  that 
he  had  gone  beyond  sea  to  America.  I  was  agreeably  sur- 
prised, in  the  beginning  of  January,  by  a  letter  from  him  :  he 
having  providentially  heard  of  me,  wrote  to  me  to  encourage 
me  to  go  on.  I  was  at  this  time  greatly  distressed  in  respect 
to  my  itinerary  way  of  preaching  : — yet  I  prosecuted  my  work 
with  the  utmost  activity.")  "  Sure,  no  person  is  under  such 
obligations  to  advance  the  glory  of  free  goodness  and  grace, 
as  this  poor  prodigal," — himself.  "  Oh  how  ravishing  it  is  to 
hear  of  the  divine  love  and  favour  to  London  !  And  to  make 
your  joy  greater  still,  I  have  some  more  good  news  to  send 
you  from  Wales.  There  is  a  great  revival  in  Cardiganshire, 
through  one  Mr.  D.  Rowlands,  a  church  clergyman,  who  has 
been  much  owned  and  blessed  in  Caermarthenshire  also.  We 
have  also  a  sweet  prospect  in  Breconshire,  and  part  of  Mon- 
mouthshire."— "  I  hint  this  in  general,  as  I  could  not  testify 
my  love  any  way  more  agreeably  to  your  soul,  than  to  let  you 
know  how  the  interest  of  our  good,  gracious,  and  dear  Sa- 
viour prospers  hereabouts." — "Were  you  to  come  to  Wales, 
it  would  not  be  labour  in  vain.     I  hope  the  faithful  account  I 


124         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

have  given  you,  will  excite  you  to  send  again  a  line  to  him, 
that  would  be  sincerely  yours,  in  Jesus  Christ,  whilst  H.  H." 

In  this  way  White-field  and  hfowel  Harris  attracted  each 
other.  How  much  they  influenced  each  other  also,  will  be 
best  told  in  their  own  words.  In  the  meantime,  however,  I 
must  give  some  account  of  Howel ;  for  he  is  too  little  known. 
Dr.  Gillies  knew  him  merely  "  as  one  Howel  Harris,  a  lay- 
man ;  "  and  the  doctor's  editors  and  annotators  have  not  am- 
plified this  account  of  him. 

Howel  Harris  was  born  at  Trevecca,  Brecknockshire,  in 
1714.  He  was  intended  for  the  church,  by  his  family;  and 
had  flattering  prospects  of  patronage.  Up  to  the  twenty-first 
year  of  his  age,  he  had,  however,  no  serious  views  of  his  char- 
acter, or  of  his  destined  profession.  His  first  thoughtfulness 
was  awakened  in  Talgarth  church,  by  a  sermon  on  the  neglect 
of  the  sacrament.  He  had  been  a  very  irregular  attendant, 
and  thus  was  conscience-struck  when  the  clergyman  exclaim- 
ed, "  If  you  are  unfit  to  visit  the  table  of  the  Lord,  you  are 
unfit  to  visit  the  church,  you  are  unfit  to  live,  you  are  unfit  to 
die." 

From  this  time,  his  vague  convictions  deepened  and  settled 
into  vital  principles.  On  the  very  day,  whilst  going  home 
after  the  sermon,  he  met  with  a  person  whom  he  had  offend- 
ed, and  both  conlessed  the  offence  and  begged  forgiveness. 
For  a  time,  however,  he  was  the  victim  of  great  mental  an- 
guish. Remorse  darkened  and  depressed  his  spirit,  although 
he  had  abandoned  all  his  old  sins,  and  solemnly  resolved  to 
make  the  service  of  God  "  the  key-stone  of  his  conduct." 
Happily  for  himself,  he  did  not  forget  the  souls  of  others, 
whilst  brooding  over  his  own  fears:  but  as  soon  as  he  caught 
a  glimpse  of  his  way  to  the  cross,  he  began  to  instruct  and 
invite  his  neighbours  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to  come.  In  this 
work,  he  found  so  much  comfort  for  himself,  and  saw  so 
much  good  done  by  it,  that  it  became  "the  sole  occupation  of 
his  life." 

In  November,  1735,  he  went  to  Oxford  to  finish  his  studies, 
with  an  express  view  to  ordination  ;  but  he  was  so  much  dis- 
gusted with  the  immorality  of  the  University,  that  he  staid 
only  one  term.  He  returned  home,  and  renewed  his  visits 
and  exhortations  in  the  cottages  of  the  poor,  and  commenced 
field  preaching.  And  such  was  the  effect,  that,  in  the  course 
of  a  year,  "  so  many  had  become  imbued  with  serious  im- 
pressions," that  he  began  to  form  them  into  religious  societies. 


WHITE  FIELD'S      LIFE     AND     TIMES.  125 

"  In  the  formation  of  these  associations,"  he  says,  "  I  follow- 
ed the  rules  of  Dr.  Woodward,  in  a  work  written  by  him  on 
that  subject.  Previously  to  this,  no  societies  of  the  kind 
had  been  founded  either  in  Wales  or  England.  The  English 
Methodists  had  not  become  famous  as  yet,  although,  as  I 
afterwards  learned,  several  of  them  in  Oxford  were,  at  that 
time,  under  strong  religious  influences. "  Harris  had  orga- 
nized thirty  of  these  societies,  before  Whitefield  or  Wesley 
visited  Wales :  not,  however,  as  dissenting  or  methodist 
congregations  ;  nor,  indeed,  with  any  view  of  their  ever  sepa- 
rating from  the  church.  The  revival  of  religion  in  the  church 
was  his  avowed  object  from  the  first,  and  his  professed  object 
through  life. 

Whitefield  and  Howel  Harris  met  for  the  first  time  at  Car- 
diff, in  1739;  just  whilst  the  former  was  glowing  with  the 
recollections  of  what  he  had  seen  and  felt  amongst  the  colliers 
at  Bristol ;  and  whilst  the  latter  was  girding  himself  for  a 
new  campaign  in  Wales.  On  his  way  from  Bristol  to  Car- 
diff, Whitefield  was  delayed,  by  contrary  winds,  at  the  New 
Passage.  "  At  the  inn,"  he  says,  "  there  was  an  unhappy 
clergyman,  who  would  not  go  over  in  the  passage  boat,  be- 
cause I  was  in  it.  Alas  !  thought  I,  this  very  temper  would 
make  heaven  itself  unpleasant  to  that  man,  if  he  saw  me 
there.  I  was  told,  that  he  charged  me  with  being  a  dissenter. 
I  saw  him,  soon  after,  shaking  his  elbows  over  a  gaming- 
table. I  heartily  wish  those  who  charge  me  causelessly  with 
schism,  and  being  righteous  over-much,  would  consider,  that 
the  canon  of  our  church  forbids  the  clergy  to  frequent  taverns, 
to  play  at  cards  or  dice,  or  any  other  unlawful  games.  Their 
indulging  themselves  in  these  things  is  a  stumbling-block  to 
thousands." 

At  Cardiff,  Whitefield  preached  in  the  town-hall,  from 
the  judges'  seat.  Harris  was  there.  "  After  I  came  from  the 
seat,"  he  says,  "I  was  much  refreshed  with  the  sight  of  Mr. 
Howel  Harris  ;  whom,  though  I  knew  not  in  person,  I  have 
long  loved,  and  have  often  felt  my  soul  drawn  out  in  prayer  in 
his  behalf. 

"  A  burning  and  shining  light  has  he  been  in  those  parts  ; 
a  barrier  against  profaneness  and  immorality,  and  an  indefati- 
gable promoter  of  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  About  three 
or  four  years,  God  has  inclined  him  to  go  about  doing  good. 
He  is  now  about  twenty-five  years  of  age.  Twice  he  has 
applied  (being  in  every  way  qualified)  for  holy  orders  ;  but  was 

11* 


126        whitefield'slife    and  times. 

refused.  About  a  month  ago  he  offered  himself  again,  but 
was  put  off.  Upon  this,  he  was  and  is  resolved  to  go  on  in 
his  work;  and  indefatigable  zeal  has  he  shown  in  his  Mas- 
ter's service  !  For  these  three  years  (as  he  told  me  with  his 
own  mouth)  he  has  discoursed  almost  twice  every  day,  for 
three  or  four  hours  together.  He  has  been,  I  think,  in  seven 
counties,  and  has  made  it  his  business  to  go  to  wakes,  &c., 
to  turn  people  from  lying  vanities.  Many  ale-house  people, 
fiddlers,  and  harpers,  Demetrius-like,  sadly  cry  out  against 
him  for  spoiling  their  business.  He  has  been  made  the  sub- 
ject of  many  sermons,  has  been  threatened  with  public  prose- 
cutions, and  had  constables  sent  to  apprehend  him.  But  God 
has  blessed  him  with  inflexible  courage  ;  and  he  still  goes  on 
from  conquering  to  conquer.  Many  call  and  own  him  as 
their  spiritual  father.  He  discourses,  generally,  in  a  field  ; 
but,  at  other  times,  in  a  house  ;  from  a  wall,  a  table,  or 
any  thing  else.  He  has  established  nearly  thirty  societies 
in  South  Wales,  and  still  his  sphere  of  action  is  enlarged 
daily.  He  is  full  of  faith  and  the  Holy  Ghost.  He  is  of 
a  most  catholic  spirit ;  loves  all  who  love  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ ;  and,  therefore,  he  is  styled  by  bigots,  a  dissenter. 
He  is  contemned  by  all  that  are  lovers  of  pleasure  more 
than  lovers  of  God  ;  but  God  has  greatly  blessed  his  pious 
endeavours. 

"  Y\  hen  I  first  saw  him,  my  heart  was  knit  closely  to  him. 
I  wanted  to  catch  some  of  his  fire,  and  gave  him  the  right 
hand  of  fellowship  with  my  whole  heart.  After  I  had  saluted 
him,  and  given  an  exhortation  to  a  great  number  of  people, 
who  followed  me  to  the  inn,  we  spent  the  remainder  of  the 
evening  in  taking  sweet  counsel  together,  and  telling  one 
another  what  God  had  done  for  our  souls.  A  divine  and 
strong  sympathy  seemed  to  be  between  us,  and  I  was  re- 
solved to  promote  his  interest  with  all  my  might.  Accord- 
ingly, we  took  an  account  of  the  several  societies,  and  agreed 
on  such  measures,  as  seemed  most  conducive  to  promote  the 
common  interest  of  our  Lord.  Blessed  be  God !  there 
seems  a  noble  spirit  gone  out  into  Wales  ;  and  I  believe  that, 
ere  long,  here  will  be  more  visible  fruits  of  it.  What  inclines 
me  strongly  to  think  so  is,  that  the  partition  wall  of  bigotry 
and  party  spirit  is  broken  down,  and  ministers  and  teachers 
of  different  communions  join  with  one  heart  and  one  mind, 
to  carry  on  the  kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  Lord  make 
all  the  Christia  nworld  thus  minded  ;  for,  until  this  is  done, 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         127 

we  must,  I  fear,  despair  of  any  great  reformation  in  the  ehurch 
of  God." 

Any  thing  that  would  lessen  the  impression  of  these  con- 
cluding remarks,  would  be  ill-timed,  and  in  bad  taste  ;  but 
still  it  would  be  improper,  even  if  it  were  possible,  to  forget 
that  this  fall  of  "  the  partition  wall  of  bigotry  and  party 
spirit"  has,  like  the  fall  of  popish  Babylon,  been  too  often 
celebrated  before  the  time,  by  sanguine  and  catholic  men. 
It  is  now  nearly  a  century  since  Whitefield  said  that  it  was 
fallen.  Good  man  !  he  thought  the  whole  wall  had  surely 
given  way,  whenever  he  found  an  unexpected  breach  in  it,  at 
which  he  could  enter  with  the  gospel,  even  if  he  was  pelted 
with  the  broken  fragments.  So  other  good  men  thought 
and  said,  during  the  novelty  of  Bible  and  Missionary  Socie- 
ties. Then,  not  only  was  the  partition  wall  declared  to  be 
fallen,  but  bigotry  was  registered  in  the  bills  of  mortality,  and 
said  to  be  buried  for  ever.  And  yet,  even  now  that  there  is 
afar  nobler  spirit  of  reformation  gone  forth  in  the  church, 
than  ever  Whitefield  saw,  or  than  the  first  friends  of  our 
great  societies  anticipated,  the  wall  is  higher  than  ever,  and 
has,  of  late,  had  a  copping  of  broken  glass  and  rusty  spikes 
laid  upon  it.  There  is,  indeed,  a  sense,  in  which,  like  Baby- 
lon, it  is  somewhat  fallen;  but  the  great  and  final  "fall  thereof" 
is  yet  to  come  in  the  case  of  both.  Neither  will  fall,  how- 
ever, like  the  walls  of  Jericho,  at  one  crash,  nor  by  one  crisis  ; 
although  both  will  be  overthrown  by  one  process — by  bearing 
around  them  the  ark  of  the  covenant,  with  the  sound  of  its 
own  trumpets. 

It  is  when  such  men  as  George  Whitefield  and  Howel 
Harris  meet  and  blend  their  hallowed  fires,  to  set  a  "  whole 
principality  in  a  blaze,"  that  the  wall  of  bigotry  is  shaken,  by 
the  numbers  which  climb  over  from  both  sides  to  hear  the 
gospel.  From  the  moment  these  champions  of  the  cross 
joined  issue  in  Cardiff,  Wales  began  to  be  evangelized.  In 
1715,  the  number  of  dissenting  chapels  was  only  35  ,  in 
1810,  it  amounted  to  954;  in  1832,  to  more  than  1400! 
They  are  still  multiplying  ;  and  lately,  the  debt  upon  them3 
so  far  as  they  are  independent,  has  been  wiped  off,  by  a  burst 
of  "  the  voluntary  principle."  What,  then,  must  have  been 
the  spiritual  state  of  Wales,  at  the  beginning  of  the  last 
century?  In  1715,  there  were  only  35  dissenting  chapels, 
and  about  850  churches,  in  all  the  principality  ! 

Whitefield  says  of  his  first  interview  with  Howel  Harris, 


128        whitefield's   life   and  times. 

u  I  doubt  not  but  Satan  envied  our  happiness  ;  but  I  hope, 
by  the  help  of  God,  we  shall  make  his  kingdom  shake.  God 
loves  to  do  great  things  by  weak  instruments,  that  the  power 
may  be  of  God,  and  not  of  man." 

Before  leaving  Cardiff,  Whitefield  preaehed  again  in  the 
town-hall,  to  a  large  assembly.  "  My  dear  brother  Harris 
sat  close  by  me.  I  did  not  observe  any  scoffers  within  ;  but 
without,  some  were  pleased  to  honour  me  so  far,  as  to  trail  a 
dead  fox,  and  hunt  it  about  the  hall.  But,  blessed  be  God, 
my  voice  prevailed.  This  being  done,  I  went,  with  many  of 
my  hearers,  amongst  whom  were  two  worthy  dissenting 
ministers,  to  public  worship  ;  and,  in  the  second  lesson,  were 
these  remarkable  words,  •  The  high  priests,  and  the  scribes, 
and  the  chief  of  the  people  sought  to  destroy  him ;  but  they 
could  not  find  what  they  might  do  to  him;  for  all  the  people 
were  attentive  to  him.' 

"In  the  afternoon  I  preached  again,  without  any  disturbance 
or  scoffing.  In  the  evening,  I  talked  for  above  an  hour  and  a 
half  with  the  religious  society,  and  never  did  I  see  a  congre- 
gation more  melted  down.  The  love  of  Jesus  touched  them 
to  the  quick.  Most  of  them  were  dissolved  in  tears.  They 
came  to  me  after,  weeping,  bidding  me  farewell,  and  wishing 
I  could  continue  with  them  longer.  Thanks  be  to  God,  for 
such  an  entrance  into  Wales !  I  wrestled  with  God  for  them 
in  prayer,  and  blessed  His  holy  name  for  sending  me  into 
Wales.  I  hope  these  are.the  first  fruits  of  a  greater  harvest,  if 
ever  it  should  please  God  to  bring  me  back  from  Georgia. 
Father,  thy  will  be  done  ! " 

"  Friday,  March  9.  Left  Cardiff  about  six  in  the  morning, 
and  reached  Newport  about  ten,  where  many  came  from  Pon- 
typool  and  other  parts  to  hear  me.  The  minister  being  asked 
and  readily  granting  us  the  pulpit,  I  preached  with  great  power 
to  about  a  thousand  people.  I  think  Wales  is  excellently 
well  prepared  for  the  gospel  of  Christ.  They  have,  I  hear, 
many  burning  and  shining  lights,  both  among  the  dissenting 
and  church  ministers ;  amongst  whom  Mr.  Griffith  Jones 
shines  in  particular.  No  less  than  fifty  charity  schools  have 
been  erected  by  his  means,  without  any  settled  visible  fund  ; 
and  fresh  ones  are  setting  up  every  day.  People  make  no- 
thing of  coming  twenty  miles  to  hear  a  sermon.  Even  so, 
Lord  Jesus.     Amen ! " 

On  the  following  day  Whitefield  returned  from  this  short 
excursion  to  Bristol  again,  "  baptized  with  "  Welsh  "  fire," 


whitefield's   life    and   times.         129 

and  renewed  his  labours  amongst  the  Kingswood  colliers, 
with  extraordinary  power  and  success.  He  could  not,  how- 
ever, forget  the  Welsh  tears,  which  had  entreated  him  to  st;iy 
longer.  Accordingly,  on  the  4th  of  April,  he  visited  Husk 
and  Pontypool,  and  was  met  by  Howel  Harris  again.  At 
Husk,  "  The  pulpit  being  denied,  I  preached  upon  a  table, 
under  a  large  tree,  to  some  hundreds,  and  God  was  with  us 
of  a  truth.  On  my  way  to  Pontypool,  I  was  informed  by  a 
man  that  heard  it,  that  Counsellor  H.  did  me  the  honour  to 
make  a  public  motion  to  Judge  P.  to  stop  me  and  brother 
Howel  Harris  from  going  about  teaching  the  people.  Poor 
man,  he  put  me  in  mind  of  Tertullus,  in  the  Acts  ;  but  my 
hour  is  not  yet  come.  I  have  scarce  begun  my  testimony. 
For  my  finishing  it,  my  enemies  must  have  power  over  me 
from  above.     Lord,  prepare  me  for  that  hour." 

This  report  did  not  prevent  the  curate  of  Pontypool  from 
welcoming  Whitefield  to  his  pulpit.  He  also  read  prayers  for 
him.  After  the  sermon,  it  was  found  that  so  many  had  come 
to  hear,  who  could  not  rind  room  in  the  church,  that  another 
sermon  was  loudly  called  for.  "I  went,"  he  says,  "and 
preached  to  all  the  people  in  the  field.  I  always  find  I  have 
most  power  when  I  speak  in  the  open  air;  a  proof  to  me — 
that  God  is  pleased  with  this  way  of  preaching.  I  betook 
myself  to  rest,  full  of  such  unutterable  peace  as  no  one  can 
conceive  but  those  who  feel  it !  " 

"April  5th.  All  the  way  from  Pontypool  to  Abergavenny, 
I  could  think  of  nothing  so  much  as  Joshua  going  from  city 
to  city,  and  subduing  the  devoted  nations.  Here  I  expected 
much  opposition,  having  been  informed  that  many  intended  to 
disturb  me.  But  God  impressed  an  awe  upon  all  ;  so  that, 
although  there  were  many  opposers,  no  one  dared  to  utter  a 
word.  I  did  not  spare  the  scoffers.  Afterwards  we  retired 
and  sung  a  hymn  ;  and  some  ladies  having  the  curiosity  to 
hear  us,  I  took  that  opportunity  of  dissuading  them  against 
balls  and  assemblies.  Afterwards  I  learned  that  they  were 
the  mistresses  of  the  assemblies  in  Abergavenny.  I  hope 
God  intended  them  good." 

"  April  6th.  Reached  Carleon,  a  town  famous  for  having 
thirty  British  kings  buried  in  it,  and  producing  three  martyrs. 
I  chose  particularly  to  come  hither,  because  when  Howel 
Harris  was  here  last,  some  of  the  baser  sort  beat  a  drum,  and 
huzzaed  around  him,  to  disturb  him.  Many  thousands  came 
to  hear  ;  but  God  suffered  them  not  to  move  a  tongue,  al- 


130        whitefield's   life   and  times. 

though  from  the  very  same  place,  and  I  prayed  for  Howel 
Harris  by  name — as  I  do  in  every  place  where  I  have  preach- 
ed in  Wales.  I  believe  the  scoffers  felt  me,  to  some  pur- 
pose. I  was  carried  out  beyond  myself.  Oh  that  the  love  of 
Christ  would  melt  them  down!" 

"  In  the  afternoon  we  set  out  for  Trelek,  ten  miles  from 
Carleon  ;  but  the  Welsh  miles  being  very  long,  we  could  not 
reach  it  till  almost  dark  ;  so  that  many  of  the  people  who  had 
been  waiting  for  me  were  returned  home.  The  church  being 
denied,  I  stood  on  a  horse-block  before  the  inn,  and  preached 
to  those  who  were  left  behind  ;  but  I  could  not  speak  with 
such  freedom  as  usual,  for  my  body  was  weak  through  the 
fatigue  of  the  past  day." 

At  the  close  of  this  second  short  excursion  into  Wales, 
Whitefield  exclaims,  "  Oh  how  swiftly  this  week  has  glided 
away !  To  me  it  has  been  but  as  one  day.  How  do  I  pity 
those  who  complain  that  time  hangs  on  their  hands  !  Let 
them  but  love  Christ,  and  spend  their  whole  time  in  his  ser- 
vice, and  they  will  find  but  kw  melancholy  hours." 

Dr.  Gillies  says,  that  in  these  tours  Howel  Harris  preach- 
ed after  Whitefield,  in  Welsh.  He  does  not  mean,  of  course, 
in  the  churches  ;  and  Whitefield  does  not  mention  any  Welsh 
sermons.  Harris  followed  up,  however,  the  labours  of  his 
new  friend  with  great  power.  "  I  thank  God  for  his  goodness 
to  brother  Howel  Harris.  I  thank  you  for  informing  me  of 
it;"  says  Whitefield  in  a  letter  written  whilst  he  was  on  his 
way  to  America.  In  another,  from  Philadelphia,  to  Harris 
himself,  he  writes  thus  :  "I  congratulate  you  on  your  success 
at  Monmouth.  By  divine  permission,  in  about  a  twelvemonth, 
I  hope  to  make  a  second  use  of  your  field  pulpits.  Our 
principles  agree,  as  face  answers  to  face  in  the  water.  Since 
I  saw  you,  God  has  been  pleased  to  enlighten  me  more  in 
that  comfortable  doctrine  of  election.  At  my  return,  I  hope 
to  be  more  explicit  than  I  have  been.  God  forbid  that  we 
should  shun  to  declare  the  whole  counsel  of  God." 

"The  people  of  Wales  are  much  upon  my  heart.  I  long 
to  hear  how  the  gospel  flourishes  among  you.  How  prospers 
your  'inward  man?'  Being  always  doing — no  doubt  you 
grow  in  grace.  May  you  increase  with  all  the  increase  of 
God  !  As  fast  as  I  can  our  Welsh  friends  shall  hear  from 
me.  Salute  them  most  affectionately  in  my  name.  Put 
them  in  mind  of  the  freeness  and  eternity  of  God's  electing 
love,  and  be  instant  with  them  to  lay  hold  on  the  perfect  right- 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         131 

eousncss  of  Christ  by  faith.  Talk  to  them,  O  talk  to  them, 
even  till  midnight,  of  the  riches  of  His  all-sufficient  grace. 
Tell  them,  0  tell  them,  what  he  has  done  for  their  souls,  and 
how  earnestly  he  is  now  interceding  for  them  in  heaven. 
Show  them,  in  the  map  of  the  word,  the  kingdoms  of  the  upper 
world  and  the  transcendent  glories  of  them;  and  assure  them 
all  shall  be  theirs,  if  they  believe  on  Jesus  Christ  with  their 
whole  heart.  Press  them  to  believe  on  Him  immediately. 
Intersperse  prayers  with  your  exhortations,  and  thereby  call 
down  lire  from  heaven,  even  the  fire  of  the  Holy  Ghost, — 

To  soften,  sweeten,  and  refine, 
And  melt  tliem  into  love. 

Speak  every  time,  my  dear  brother,  as  if  it  were  your  last ; —  t 
weep  out,  if  possible,  every  argument,  and  compel  them  to  cry, 
'  Behold  how  he  loveth  us.'     Remember  me,  remember  me 
in  your  prayers,  as  being  ever,  ever  yours." 

Thus  Whitefield  fanned  the  "Welsh  fire"  from  time  to 
time.  In  another  letter,  from  Boston,  he  says,  "  And  is  dear 
brother  Howel  Harris  yet  alive  in  body  and  soul  1  I  rejoice 
in  your  success.  May  you  mount  with  wings  like  eagles! 
You  shall  not  be  taken  nor  hurt,  till  the  appointed  hour  be 
come.  I  hope  your  conversation  was  blessed  to  dear  Mr. 
Wesley.  Oh  that  the  Lord  may  batter  down  his  free-will 
(scheme,)  and  compel  him  to  own  His  sovereignty  and  ever- 
lasting love.  God  is  working  powerfully  in  America.  He 
fills  me  with  His  presence.  Grace !  grace  !  dear  brother  H. 
yours  eternally." 

In  another,  from  Philadelphia,  he  says,  "  Your  letter,  writ- 
ten nearly  a  twelvemonth  ago,  came  to  my  hand  this  afternoon. 
My  soul  is  knit  to  you.  We  both  speak  and  think  the  same 
things.  The  Lord  be  with  your  spirit. — Jesus  manifests  forth 
his  glory  daily  in  these  parts.  His  word  is  like  a  fire  and  a 
hammer.  Last  week  I  saw  many  quite  struck  down.  America, 
ere  long,  will  be  famous  for  Christians.  Little  did  I  think 
that  I  should  preach  in  all  the  chief  places  of  America  ;  but 
that  is  now  done  !  Glory  be  to  rich,  free,  and  sovereign 
grace. — The  Lord  vouchsafe  to  us  a  happy  meeting.  O 
Wales,  thou  art  dear  to  my  soul!  Expect  another  journal 
shortly.  But  wait  till  we  come  to  glory, — fully  to  see  and 
hear  what  God  has  done  for  your  affectionate  brother." 

When  Whitefield  returned  to  England,  he  continued  to  urge 


132       whitefield's    life    and    times. 

on  Howcl  Harris  to  "  abound  in  the  work  of  the  Lord,"  by 
every  event  that  encouraged  himself.  "  I  want  to  see  you 
face  to  face.  I  wish  you  could  come  up  to  London  immedi- 
ately, and  stay  whilst  I  am  in  the  country.  Or  rather — go 
and  preach  at  Bristol,  Gloucester,  and  Wiltshire,  for  about  a 
fortnight,  and  then  come  up  to  London.  Our  congregations 
are  large  and  solemn.  I  never  had  greater  freedom  in  preach- 
ing. I  am  glad  brother  Rowland  is  with  you.  Go  on  in  the 
strength  of  our  dear  Lord,  and  you  shall  see  Satan  like  light- 
ning fall  from  heaven.  May  the  Lord  hide  your  precious 
soul  under  the  shadow  of  his  Almighty  wings  !  You  need  not 
fear  my  believing  any  reports  to  your  disadvantage.  Cease 
not  to  pray  for  yours,  eternally." 

In  the  same  spirit,  he  wrote  to  him  from  Edinburgh,  the 
moment  that  the  fire  began  to  kindle  in  Scotland.  M  My  very 
dear  brother  Harris,  though  my  eyes  be  dim,  and  my  body 
calls  for  rest,  I  would  fain  send  you  a  line  before  I  go  (to 
rest).  I  hope  God  is  beginning  such  a  work  here,  as  he  is 
now  carrying  on  in  New  England.  Night  and  day,  Jesus  fills 
me  with  his  love. — I  have  preached  twice,  and  talked  and 
walked  much  to-day. — My  dear  man,  good  night  !  " 

He  did  not  conceal  from  his  friend  the  results  of  his  inter- 
views with  the  Associate  Presbytery,  nor  his  opinion  of  their 
spirit.  "  My  heart  is  much  united  to  you.  I  utterly  disap- 
prove of  some  persons'  separating  principles.  Satan  now 
turns  himself  into  an  angel  of  light,  and  stirs  up  God's  chil- 
dren to  tempt  me  to  come  over  to  some  particular  party. — 
The  Associate  Presbytery  have  been  hard  upon  me  :  but  I  find 
no  freedom  any  longer  than  I  continue  just  as  I  am,  and  evan- 
gelize to  all.  I  know  not  that  I  differ  from  you  in  one  thing. 
God  is  doing  great  things  here  ! — It  would  make  your  heart 
leap  for  joy,  to  be  now  in  Edinburgh.  I  question  if  there  be 
not  upwards  of  300  in  this  city  seeking  after  Jesus.  Every 
morning,  I  have  a  constant  levee — of  wounded  souls.  I  am 
quite  amazed  when  I  think  what  God  hath  done  here  in  a 
fortnight.  I  am  only  afraid  lest  the  people  should  idolize  the 
instrument,  and  not  look  enough  to  the  glorious  Jesus,  in 
whom  alone  I  desire  to  glory.  Congregations  consist  of 
many  thousands.  Never  did  I  see  so  many  Bibles,  nor  peo- 
ple look  into  them  with  such  attention,  when  I  am  expound- 
ing. Plenty  of  tears  flow  from  the  hearers'  eyes.  The  love 
of  Christ  quite  strikes  me  dumb.  O  grace,  grace  !  Let  that 
be  my  song.     I  must  away  (to  preach)." 


whitefield's   life   and   times.         133 

As  might  be  expected,  Whitefield  did  not  fail  to  appeal  to 
Howel  Harris  from  the  vantage  ground  of  Combuslang. — 
Along  with  a  copy  of  his  journal  of  that  memorable  awaken- 
ing, he  wrote  thus  :  "  The  account  sent  with  this  will  show 
you  how  often  1  have  been  enabled  to  preach  ;  but  with  what 
efficacy  and  success — pen  cannot  describe.  The  glorious 
Redeemer  seems  advancing  from  congregation  to  congrega- 
tion, carrying  all  before  him.  The  Messrs.  Erskine's  people 
have  kept  a  fast  for  me  ;  and  give  out  that  all  the  work,  now 
in  Scotland,  is  only  delusion,  and  by  the  agency  of  the  devil. 
O  my  dear  brother,  to  what  lengths  in  bigotry  and  prejudice 
may  good  men  run  !  I  bless  God,  I  can  see  the  differences 
between  God's  children,  and  yet  love  them  from  my  heart. — 
What  you  say  about  poor  Wales,  affected  me.  I  am  sorry  to 
hear  there  have  been  such  divisions.  But  dividing  times 
generally  precede  settling  times.  I  should  be  glad  to  help 
the  brethren  in  Wales.     My  brother,  my  heart  is  full  ! " 

Whitefield's  letters  on  these  subjects  were  not  confined  to 
Howel  Harris.  Both  from  America  and  Scotland,  he  wrote 
to  other  Welsh  friends  in  the  church  and  amongst  the  dis- 
senters ;  and  thus  spread  the  tidings  of  the  revivals,  and  of 
their  re-action.  The  following  extract  from  a  letter  to  a  cler- 
gyman in  Wales,  is  highly  characteristic  of  Whitefield. — 
"  God  is  on  my  side — I  will  not  fear  what  men  nor  devils  say 
of,  or  do  unto,  me.  The  dear  Erskines  have  dressed  me  in 
very  black  colours.  Mr.  Gibb's  pamphlet  will  show  how 
black.  Dear  men,  I  pity  them.  Writing,  I  fear,  will  be  in 
vain.  Oh  for  a  mind  divested  of  all  sects,  names,  and  par- 
ties. I  think  it  is  my  one  simple  aim,  to  promote  the  king- 
dom of  Jesus,  without  partiality  or  hypocrisy,  indefinitely 
amongst  all.  I  care  not  if  the  name  of  George  Whitefield 
be  banished  out  of  the  world,  so  that  Jesus  be  exalted  in  it. 
Glory  to  His  great  name,  we  have  seen  much  of  his  power 
and  greatness  in  Scotland.  Last  Sabbath  and  Monday,  great 
things — -greater  than  ever,  were  seen  at  Kilsyth  !  I  preach 
twice  every  day  with  great  power,  and  walk  in  liberty  and 
love.  At  the  same  time,  I  see  and  feel  my  vileness, — and 
take  the  blessed  Jesus  to  be  my  righteousness  and  my  all." 

To  another  clergyman  in  Wales,  he  wrote  from  Philadelphia 
thus:  "  When  I  first  saw  you  at  Cardiff,  my  heart  rejoiced  to 
hear  what  God  had  done  for  your  soul.  You  were  then  under 
some  displeasure  from  your  rector  (if  I  mistake  not)  for 
speaking  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus.     Ere  now  I  hope  you 

12 


134       whitefield's    life    and   times. 

have  had  the  honour  of  being — quite  thrust  out.  Rejoice,  my 
dear  brother,  and  ho  exceeding  glad  ;  for  thus  was  our  Lord 
and  Saviour  served  before  you.  Naked,  therefore — follow 
a  naked  Christ.  Freely  you  have  received,  freely  give.  If 
you  preach  the  gospel,  you  shall  live  of  the  gospel.  Though 
you  go  out  without  scrip  or  shoe,  yet  shall  you  lack  nothing. 
Rather  than  you  shall  want, — ravens,  those  birds  of  prey, 
shall  be  commanded  to  feed  you.  If  we  go  forth  in  the  spirit 
of  apostles,  we  shall  meet  with  apostolical  success.  Stir  up, 
then,  the  gift  of  God  which  is  within  you.  Be  instant  in  sea- 
son and  out  of  season.  Debase  man,  and  exalt  Jesus.  Self- 
righteousness  overturn — overturn  !  The  people  of  Wales  (at 
least  the  common  people)  will  receive  you  gladly." 

Whitefield  not  only  stirred  up  labourers  thus,  in  Wales  ;  he 
also  watched  over  their  safety,  when  their  labours  brought 
them  into  trouble.  Accordingly,  when  some  of  the  fellow- 
ship meetings  were  indicted  as  conventicles,  he  appealed  at 
once  to  the  candour  and  justice  of  the  bishop  of  Bangor.  "I 
assure  your  lordship,  it  is  a  critical  time  for  Wales.  Hun- 
dreds, if  not  thousands,  will  go  in  a  body  from  the  church,  if 
such  proceedings  are  countenanced.  I  lately  wrote  them  a 
letter,  dissuading  them  from  separating  from  the  church;  and 
I  write  thus  freely  to  your  lordship,  because  of  the  excellent 
spirit  of  moderation  discernible  in  your  lordship." 

Some  of  these  details  violate  the  order  of  time  ;  but  they 
preserve  what  is  better — a  connected  view  of  the  impulses 
which  Whitefield  got  and  gave  in  Wales  ;  and  will  enable  the 
reader  to  appreciate  their  influence  upon  future  movements 
and  events  in  the  principality. 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        135 


CHAPTER  VII. 

WHITEFIELD      IN      AMERICA. 

When  this  continent  was  discovered  by  the  English,  it  lay 
within  the  limits  of  that  vast  territory  which  the  Pope,  although 
himself  ignorant  of  its  existence,  conferred  on  Spain  : — and, 
in  these  times,  papal  grants  were  "holy  ground."  Accord- 
ingly, Henry  VII.  was  afraid  to  colonize  it.  Henry  VIII.  had 
not  time.  Edward  VI.  had  not  power.  Queen  Mary  had  not 
inclination.  Elizabeth  had  not  spirit.  She  sanctioned,  but 
never  seconded,  the  attempt  of  Raleigh  in  Virginia.  The 
credit  of  colonizing  North  America  belongs  to  James  I.  He 
had  before  tried  the  experiment  of  colonial  towns  in  the  high- 
lands of  Scotland,  in  order  to  improve  the  clans  ;  and  although 
it  did  not  answer  all  his  expectations,  it  confirmed  him  in  the 
policy  of  the  system.  Unhappily,  his  ecclesiastical  policy 
was  not  equally  wise.  He  derided  and  denounced  the  puri- 
tans and  non-conformists.  And,  alas,  bishops  ascribed  this 
to  inspiration  ;  and  even  Lord  Bacon  justified  it ! 

Amongst  many  who  fled  from  this  tyranny  to  the  continent, 
for  refuge,  was  the  congregational  church  of  the  great  and 
good  John  Robinson.  In  1609,  they  settled  in  Leyden,  and 
remained  for  some  years.  But  the  unhealthy  climate,  and 
especially  the  unhallowed  Sabbaths  of  the  city,  determined 
them  to  emigrate  to  America. 

This  resolution  was  not  adopted  hastily,  nor  without  much 
prayer.  The  exiles  felt  for  their  Children  ;  and  shrunk  from 
the  danger  of  their  being  absorbed  in  the  mass,  or  assimilated 
to  the  morals,  of  a  foreign  nation.  And,  what  gave  irresisti- 
ble effect  to  all  their  ordinary  motives  was, — they  felt  it  to  be 
their  supreme  duty  to  spread  the  gospel  amongst  the  heathen, 
and  to  perpetuate  the  Scriptural  system  of  Christian  churches. 

It  is  not  to  the  credit  of  Dr.  Robertson,  that  he  withheld 
the  fact  of  their  missionary  spirit.  He  says,  with  an  ill-con- 
cealed sneer,  "  They  began  to  be  afraid  that  all  their  high  at- 


136        white  field's   life   and   times. 

tainments  in  spiritual  knowledge  would  be  lost ;  and  that  the 
perfect  fabric  of  policy  which  they  had  erected  would  dis- 
solve, and  be  consigned  to  oblivion,  if  they  remained  longer 
in  a  strange  land."  The  historian  understood  the  character 
of  Charles  V.  ;  but  he  was  incapable  of  appreciating  the 
character  of  John  Robinson  and  his  church,  even  although 
the  Scotch  Martyrs  furnished  a  clue  to  it.  It  requires,  how- 
ever, more  than  philosophical  discrimination,  to  discern  men- 
tal or  moral  greatness  in  the  zeal  of  poor  men  for  unpopular 
truth.  The  character  of  the  first  non-conformists  must  re- 
main a  mystery  to  mere  philosophers,  until  the  New  Testa- 
ment become  "  The  Book  of  the  Church." 

A  brief  sketch  of  the  character  and  principles  of  the  found- 
ers of  the  first  American  churches,  will  justify  this  remark. 
Now,  that  Hume,  and  writers  of  his  stamp,  should  designate 
the  Plymouth  Pilgrims,  weak  or  wild  fanatics,  is  only  what 
might  be  expected.  Nor  is  it  at  all  surprising,  that  even 
Robertson  should  call  them  enthusiasts  and  Brownists.  It  is, 
however,  a  matter  both  of  surprise  and  regret,  that  such  an 
historian  as  Grahame  should  have  called  them  Brownists,  in 
the  face  of  a  solemn  injunction  which  he  himself  transcribes, 
and  in  which  Robinson  disavows  the  name,  as  "  a  brand  for 
making  religion  odious."  Even  Baylie,  the  bitter  enemy  of 
the  first  dissenters,  declares  that  "  Robinson  was  the  princi- 
pal overthrower  of  the  Brownists,  and  became  the  father  of 
independency."  Hornius  also  distinguishes  the  independents 
from  the  Brownists,  and  calls  them  Robinsonians.  Governor 
Winslow  also,  in  his  "  Grounds  of  planting  New  England," 
says,  that  "  the  Brownists  were  settled  in  Amsterdam,  and 
would  hardly  hold  communion  with  the  people  of  Leyden." — 
Besides,  there  is  a  work  of  Robinson's,  which  bears  the  fol- 
lowing title:  *' A  just  and  Necessary  Apology  for  certain 
Christians,  no  less  contumeliously  than  commonly  called 
Brownists  or  Barrowists." 

The  fact  seems  to  be, — that  Robinson  had  been,  at  first,  a 
stricter  dissenter  than  the  generality  of  the  non-conformists  : 
and,  by  publishing  his  "Justification  of  Separation  from  the 
Church  of  England,"  in  answer  to  Bernard's  "  Separatists' 
Schism,"  which  was  chiefly  directed  against  the  Brownists,  he 
thus  subjected  himself  to  the  charge  of  being  one  of  them. 
But  both  his  spirit  and  his  system  were  of  a  far  higher  order. 
He  was,  in  the  best  sense  of  the  name,  an  independent,  or 
consreeationalist. 


whitefield's   life   and   times.  137 

What  he  was  as  a  scholar  and  a  divine,  may  he  judged 
from  his  masterly  answer  to  Bernard,  and  from  his  signal 
triumph  over  the  successor  of  Arminius,  at  Leyden.  The 
university  of  Leyden  prevailed  on  Robinson  to  accept  the 
challenge  of  Episcopius  ;  and  he  silenced  the  impugner  of 
Calvinism.  In  such  estimation  was  he  held  at  Leyden,  that 
all  the  rank  and  talent  of  the  city  attended  his  funeral,  and 
agreed  to  his  interment  in  the  chancel  of  their  principal 
church. 

Such  was  the  man  who  formed  the  sentiments,  and  the  char- 
acter of  the  men  who  formed  the  first  church  in  New  Eng- 
land. He  himself  was  prevented  from  joining  them  the"re, 
by  the  intrigues  of  a  faction  in  the  Virginian  company  in  this 
country;  but  his  mantle  and  spirit  were  carried  there  by  his 
elder  and  members.  And  nobly  did  they  exemplify  the  prin- 
ciples of  their  pastor  ! 

What  these  principles  were,  is  not  matter  of  conjecture. — » 
As  to  faith,  the  pilgrims  held  the  doctrinal  articles  of  the  re- 
formed churches  ;  and,  accordingly,  admitted  to  communion 
in  their  own  church  the  pious  members  of  all  protestant 
churches  who  chose  to  unite  with  them. 

This  open  communion,  and  unshackled  freedom  of  con- 
science, were,  however,  peculiar  to  the  independents.  The 
puritans  who  colonized  Massachusetts  Bay,  availed  them- 
selves, at  first,  of  these  privileges  ;  but  they  did  not  extend 
them  so  freely  when  they  settled  their  own  churches. 

Agreeably  to  the  spirit  of  the  church  in  which  they  were 
educated,  they  soon  began  to  govern  religion,  instead  of  sub- 
mitting to  be  governed  by  it ;  and  thus  practical  intolerance 
was  grafted  upon  speculative  liberty,  as  slavery  still  is,  on 
American  republicanism.  The  puritans  were  much  upbraid- 
ed for  this  by  the  church  of  England,  whilst  her  own  offsets 
in  the  southern  provinces  of  America  could  hardly  subsist ; 
but,  when  they  obtained  a  legal  settlement,  she  soon  fenced 
them  by  a  sacramental  test. 

Even-handed  justice,  however,  has  not  yet  been  rendered 
to  the  American  puritans.  Both  eulogy  and  censure  are  still 
too  unqualified.  Their  errors  were  the  universal  errors  of 
their  age  ;  whereas  their  virtues  were  peculiar  to  themselves. 
God,  indeed,  "  sifted  three  nations,  that  he  might  sow  New 
England  with  the  finest  wheat."     Magnalia. 

A  sketch  of  the  rise  and  progress  of  religion  in  America 
will  illustrate  this.     Its  origin,  although  of  recent  date,  was 

12* 


138        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

coeval  with  the  discovery  of  the  rock  of  Plymouth.  The  pil- 
grims had  formed  themselves,  by  covenant,  into  a  church  and 
a  state,  even  before  they  landed  ;  and  thus  Plymouth  became 
a  settlement  and  a  sanctuary  on  the  same  day.  The  voice  of 
praise  and  prayer  first  awoke  the  echoes  of  its  forests  ;  and 
before  a  tree  was  cut  for  fuel,  or  climbed  for  food,  tears  of 
gratitude  had  anointed  the  rock  as  an  Ebenezer. 

Webster,  a  member  of  congress,  has  depicted  this  scene 
with  great  power  and  pathos.  "  The  morning  that  beamed 
on  the  first  night  of  their  repose,  saw  the  pilgrims  already  es- 
tablished in  their  country.  There  were  political  institutions, 
and  civil  liberty,  and  religious  worship. 

"  Poetry  has  fancied  nothing  in  the  wanderings  of  heroes, 
so  distinct  and  characteristic.  Here  was  man,  indeed,  unpro- 
tected, and  unprovided  for,  on  the  shore  of  a  rude  and  fearful 
wilderness  ;  but  it  was  politic,  intelligent,  and  educated  man. 
Every  thing  was  civilized  but  the  physical  world.  Institu- 
tions, containing  in  substance  all  that  ages  had  done  for  hu- 
man government,  were  established  in  a  forest.  Cultivated 
mind  was  to  act  on  uncultivated  nature  ;  and,  more  than  all,  a 
government  and  a  country  were  to  commence,  with  the  very 
first  foundations  laid  under  the  divine  light  of  the  Christian 
religion.  Happy  auspices  of  a  happy  futurity  !  Who  could 
wish  that  his  country's  existence  had  otherwise  begun  ?  Who 
would  desire  to  go  back  to  the  ages  of  fable  ?  Who  would 
wish  for  an  origin  obscured  in  the  darkness  of  antiquity  ? 
Who  would  wish  for  other  emblazoning  of  his  country's 
heraldry,  or  other  ornaments  of  her  genealogy,  than  to  be  able 
to  say,  that  her  first  existence  was  with  intelligence  ;  her  first 
breath,  the  inspiration  of  liberty  ;  her  first  principle,  the  truth 
of  divine  religion  1  " 

In  a  similar  spirit,  Whelpley,  of  New  York,  says,  "  On  the 
day  they  felt  the  firm  earth,  for  weal  or  for  wo,  they  adopted 
it  as  their  country ;  they  looked  off  to  the  surrounding  hills 
and  snow-clad  ranges,  and  felt  that  these  must  henceforth  be 
their  horizon;  they  surveyed  the  deep  and  frowning  forest, 
with  its  savage  tenantry,  and  resolved  to  subdue  and  make  it 
the  abode  of  pure  religion ;  they  looked  along  the  far-sound- 
ing shore,  and  resolved  to  explore  its  depths  and  islands,  and 
point  out  to  their  children  the  places  of  cities,  and  the  marts 
of  commerce  ;  they  looked  up  to  the  broad  heavens,  where 
dwelt  their  covenant   God,  and,  in  prayer,  resolved  to  build 


whitefield's   life  and  times.  139 

Him  a  house  for  his  worship,  wherever  under  these  heavens, 
like  Jacob,  they  rested  on  their  pilgrimage." 

Vivid  and  touching  as  these  pictures  are,  they  are,  perhaps, 
surpassed,  as  to  effect,  by  the  simple  journals  of  the  pilgrims 
themselves  ;  from  which  Prince  drew  the  materials,  and,  in  a 
great  measure,  the  language,  of  his  "  Annals  ;  " — a  book  al- 
most unknown  now  in  this  country. 

"  1(520.  Dec.  20.  This  morning,  after  calling  on  Heaven 
for  guidance,  they  go  ashore  again,  to  pitch  on  some  place  for 
immediate  settlement.  After  viewing  the  country,  they  con- 
clude to  settle  on  the  main,  on  a  high  ground  facing  the  bay; 
a  sweet  brook  running  under  the  hill,  with  many  delicate 
springs.  On  a  great  hill  they  intend  to  fortify,  which  will 
command  all  round  ;  whence  they  may  see  across  from  the 
the  bay  to  Cape  Cod.  And  here,  being  twenty  in  number, 
they  rendezvous  this  evening  ;  but  a  storm  rising,  it  blows 
and  rains  hard  all  night ;  continues  so  tempestuous  for  two 
days,  that  they  cannot  get  aboard,  and  have  nothing  to  shelter 
them. 

"  21st.  Dies  Richard  Bretterige,  the  first  who  dies  in  this 
harbour. 

"  23d.  As  many  go  on  shore  as  can  ;  cut  and  carry  timber 
for  a  common  building. 

"  24th.  Lord's  day.  Our  people  ashore  are  alarmed  with 
the  cry  of  savages  ;  expect  an  assault,  but  continue  quiet. 
And  this  day,  dies  Solomon  Martin,  the  sixth  and  last  who 
dies  this  month. 

"  25th.  Monday.  They  go  ashore  again,  felling  timber, 
sawing,  riving,  carrying.  Begin  to  erect  their  first  house, 
about  twenty  foot  square,  for  their  common  use,  to  receive 
them  and  their  goods.  Leaving  twenty  to  keep  a  court  of 
guard,  the  rest  return  aboard  at  evening.  But  in  the  night 
and  next  day,  another  sore  storm  of  wind  and  rain. 

"  28th.  Thursday.  They  go  to  work  on  the  hill  ;  reduce 
themselves  to  nineteen  families  ;  measure  out  their  lots,  and 
draw  for  them.  Many  grow  ill  of  grievous  colds,  from  the 
great  and  many  hardships  they  had  endured.  They  see 
great  smokes  of  fires  made  by  Indians,  about  six  or  seven 
miles  off*. 

"31st.  Lord's  day.  The  generality  remain  aboard  the  ship, 
almost  a  mile  and  a  half  off.  Some  keep  the  Sabbath,  for  the 
firVt  time,  in  the  place  of  their  building. 

"  1621.   Jan.  9th.     We  labour  in  building  our  town  in  two 


140        wiiitefield's  life   and  times. 

rows  of  houses  for  greater  safety  :  divide  by  lot  the  ground 
we  build  on  :  agree  that  every  man  builds  his  own  house,  that 
they  may  make  more  haste. 

"  13th.  Saturday.  Having  the  major  part  of  our  people 
ashore,  we  purpose  there  to  keep  the  public  worsbip  to- 
morrow. 

"  1 4th.  Lord's  day  morning  at  six  o'clock,  the  wind  being 
very  high,  we,  on  shipboard,  see  our  rendezvous  in  flames, 
and  fear  the  savages  had  tired  it ;  nor  can  we  come  to  help, 
for  want  of  the  tide,  till  seven  o'clock  :  at  landing,  find  that 
the  house  was  fired  by  a  spark  in  the  thatch. 

M  3 1st.  The  people  aboard  see  two  savages,  but  cannot 
come  to  speak  with  them. 

"  Feb.  9th.  This  afternoon  our  house  for  sick  people  is 
set  on  fire  by  a  spark  lighting  on  the  roof. 

"  About  this  time  the  Indians  get  all  the  pawaws  (magicians) 
of  the  country  together  for  three  days,  in  a  horrid  and  devilish 
manner  to  curse  and  execrate  us  with  their  conjurations: 
which  assembly  they  hold  in  a  dark  and  dismal  swamp." 

Such  was  their  first  winter ;  and,  before  the  return  of 
spring,  disease  or  famine  had  swept  off*  one  half  of  them. 
The  survivors,  too,  instead  of  being  able  to  devote  themselves 
to  planting  and  building,  had  to  spend  the  greater  part  of  their 
time  in  defending  their  persons  and  property  from  the  savages. 
Still,  the  pilgrims  neither  repented  nor  repined.  "Spring," 
they  say,  " puts  new  life  into  ms."  "  All  the  summer,  no  want. 
We  Jit  our  houses  against  winter ;  are  in  health,  and  have  all 
things  in  plenty"      Prince's  Annals. 

At  this  time  they  had  no  minister.  Mr.  Brewster,  the  elder 
of  the  church,  conducted  their  worship,  until  Mr.  Robinson 
should  be  able  to  join  them.  But,  whilst  they  were  looking 
and  longing  for  his  arrival,  a  faction  in  the  Plymouth  com- 
pany at  home,  were  intriguing  to  prevent  him  from  leaving 
Leyden.  This  faction  seem  to  have  had  for  their  object  the 
introduction  of  Episcopal  forms  into  the  worship  of  the  colony. 
Accordingly,  in  1624,  they  sent  out,  as  their  tool,  Lyford,  a 
minister  who  had  lost  his  character  in  Ireland.  On  his  ar- 
rival, the  pilgrims  say,  "  He  appears  exceedingly  complaisant 
and  humble ;  sheds  many  tears ;  blesses  God,  that  had 
brought  him  to  see  our  faces.  We  give  him  the  best  enter- 
tainment we  can.  We  make  him  larger  allowance  than  any 
others.  At  his  desire,  we  receive  him  into  our  church  ; 
when  he  blesses  God  for  the  opportunity  and  freedom   of 


whitefield's   life  and   times.  141 

enjoying  his  ordinances  in  purity."  That  purity  Lyford  soon 
tampered  with.  He  insisted  upon  administering  the  sacra- 
ment in  the  episcopal  form,  and  on  using  the  liturgy.  Nor 
was  this  the  worst  part  of  his  conduct.  He  caballed  with 
some  unprincipled  adventurers,  who  had  come  out  to  betray 
the  colony,  and  usurp  its  government.  The  plot  was,  how- 
ever, detected.  The  governor  pursued  the  ship  which  brought 
Lyford  out,  and  arrested  his  letters.  On  his  return,  the 
governor  summoned  a  general  court,  and  charged  Lyford  and 
his  party  with  the  plot.  They  denied  it.  He  then  produced 
Lyford's  letters,  and  confounded  the  traitors  before  all  the  as- 
sembly. 

Incredible  as  it  may  seem,  such  was  the  leniency  of  the 
court,  that  Lyford  was  even  restored  to  his  office,  upon  a  pro- 
fession of  repentance,  "made  with  tears,"  before  the  church  ! 
But  these  tears,  like  the  former,  were  hypocritical  ;  for,  in 
less  than  a  month,  he  wrote  another  letter  to  betray  the 
government,  and  was  detected  again  !  Cotton  Mather  says 
of  Lyford,  "  On  this  he  was  banished  from  the  plantation,  and 
went  into  Virginia,  where  he  shortly  after  ended  his  own 
life."  Soon  after  this,  the  pilgrims  say,  "We  hear  sad 
news ;  our  dear  pastor,  Mr.  Robinson  is  dead ;  which 
strikes  us  with  great  sorrow.  These  things  could  not  but  cast 
us  into  great  perplexity  ;  yet,  being  stripped  of  all  human  hopes 
and  help,  when  we  are  now  at  the  lowest,  the  Lord  so  helps 
ms,  as  that  we  are  not  only  upheld,  but  begin  to  rise."  This 
"rise"  was  not,  however,  great  nor  rapid  ;  for,  at  the  end  of 
ten  years,  the  population  of  Plymouth  was  only  three  hundred 
persons. 

Such  was  the  rise  of  religion  in  America.  Its  progress,  at 
this  early  period,  was,  of  course,  by  the  accession  of  pious  set- 
tlers from  Europe,  and  by  the  influence  of  the  first  churches 
upon  the  worldly  settlers.  In  the  former  case,  the  progress 
was  great.  Charles  I.  was  then  upon  the  throne,  and  Laud 
behind  it ;  and  their  well-known  measures  compelled  the  puri- 
tans and  non-conformists  to  choose  between  exile  and  chains. 
Many  of  them  preferred  the  former.  Aware  of  this,  the  Rev. 
Mr.  White,  of  Dorchester,  organized  a  colony  for  Massa- 
chusetts Bay,  which  obtained  a  royal  charter.  Neale,  by 
a  strange  mistake,  says,  that  "  free  liberty  of  conscience 
was  granted  by  this  charter."  An  improbable  gift,  from  the 
iron  hand  of  Charles  !  The  deed  itself  contains  no  permis- 
sion of  the  kind.     Such  as  it  was,  however,  it  soon  drew  into 


142        whitefield's    life    and    times. 

the  colony  eighteen  hundred  persons  ;  many  of  whom  were 
wealthy,  and  most  of  them  respectable.  Several  eminent 
ministers  also  accompanied  them.  These  emigrants  laid  the 
foundations  of  Boston,  Charlestown,  Dorchester,  and  other 
towns  ;  in  each  of  which  a  church  was  formed.  And  such  was 
their  prosperity  and  peace,  that  crowds  continued  to  pour  into 
the  country. 

Whilst  this  influx  was  proceeding,  the  small-pox  broke  out 
amongst  the  Indians,  and  swept  oiF  such  multitudes,  that 
whole  tribes  were  annihilated.  Providence,  by  thus  evacu- 
ating the  country,  was  supposed  to  indicate  his  appropriation 
of  it  to  the  English.  The  vacated  space  proved,  however,  a 
temptation  ;  because  its  best  districts  being  far  asunder,  they 
drew  the  settlers  too  far  off*  from  each  other.  It  was,  how- 
ever, this  dispersion,  that  led  to  the  'adoption  of  a  representa- 
tive system  of  government  in  New  England. 

It  cannot  surprise  any  one  to  hear  that,  amongst  so  many 
emigrants,  so  suddenly  thrown  together,  and  all  passing  at  once 
from  bondage  to  full  liberty  of  conscience,  there  should  have 
been  some  differences  of  religious  opinion.  There  were, 
however,  far  fewer  than  could  be  expected  ;  and  these  were 
confined  in  every  instance,  to  very  few  persons.  The  cele- 
brated Roger  Williams  was  the  chief  disturber  of  the  har- 
mony of  the  infant  churches  ;  but  with  all  his  singularities, 
he  was  a  noble-minded  and  right-hearted  man.  He  under- 
stood religious  liberty  better  than  the  puritans  ;  and,  to  his 
spirit  and  firmness  in  resisting  the  jurisdiction  of  magistrates, 
in  religion,  New  England  is  chiefly  indebted  for  her  charter 
of  conscience. 

Whilst  the  Massachusetts'  colony  was  thus  advancing, 
similar  motives  and  causes  led  to  the  settlement  of  Connecti- 
cut and  New-Haven  ;  in  both  of  which  the  Scriptures  were 
adopted  as  the  sole  code  of  law  and  religion.  A  colony  was 
also  planted  in  New-Hampshire  and  Maine  ;  but  by  men  of 
another  spirit.  It  made  no  progress  for  some  years,  until  it 
came  under  the  jurisdiction  of  the  Massachusetts'  colony. 
Indeed,  all  the  colonies,  about  this  time,  retrograded  during  a 
disastrous  war  with  the  Indians.  Charles  had  also  forbidden 
further  emigration  from  England,  without  permission.  He 
had  even  decided  on  taking  away  the  Massachusetts'  charter, 
and  on  remodelling  the  government  agreeably  to  his  own 
mind.  The  meeting  of  the  long  parliament,  however,  furnish- 
ed him  with  other  work.     But,  whilst  this  event  saved  their 


whitefield's    life   and    times.        143 

charter  at  the  time,  it  likewise  put  a  stop  to  emigration  ;  there 
being  then  no  intolerable  pressure,  upon  conscience.  Whilst 
that  pressure  lasted,  however,  two  hundred  thousand  British 
subjects  had  settled  in  New  England ;  and  £^00,(J00  had 
been  expended  upon  it  :  "a  sum,"  says  Robertson,  "which 
no  principles,  inferior  in  force  to  those  wherewith  the  puritans 
were  animated,  could  have  persuaded  men  to  lay  out  on  the 
uncertain  prospect  of  finding  subsistence  and  enjoying  free- 
dom." 

During  the  Protectorate,  although  no  great  accession  was 
made  to  the  population  of  New  England,  great  favour  was 
shown  to  the  colonies  ;  or  rather,  they  were  allowed  to  take 
great  liberties  beyond  their  charter.  They  formed  the  con- 
federacy of  the  States,  and  struck  a  coinage  of  their  own. 
Whether  these  steps  were  approved,  or  overlooked  amidst  the 
crowd  of  nearer  events,  is  not  known.  Cromwell,  however, 
formed  a  plan  for  the  colonists,  which,  happily  was  plausible 
only  to  himself.  When  he  had  conquered  Jamaica,  he  offered 
to  transport  to  it  the  churches  of  New  England,  that  they 
might  resist  popery  in  the  centre  of  the  new  world.  In  this 
enterprise,  so  characteristic  of  its  author,  Cromwell  pledged 
himself  to  support  them  with  the  whole  weight  of  his  authority 
and  influence.  They  had,  however,  the  wisdom  to  decline 
his  proposals,  without  incurring  his  displeasure. 

About  this  time,  a  better  direction  was  given  to  their  zeal, 
and  new  energy  infused  into  their  Indian  missions,  by  the 
spirit  with  which  parliament  incorporated  the  Society  for  pro- 
pagating the  gospel  in  New  England  ;  and  especially,  by  the 
success  of  Eliot.  No  great  accession  of  numbers  or  strength 
was  made  to  the  infant  churches,  however,  until  the  restora- 
tion of  Charles  II.  restored  the  old  system  at  home.  Then 
the  Act  of  Uniformity  threw  into  their  arms  another  large 
group  of  pilgrims,  in  "  the  spirit  and  power  "  of  the  Plymouth 
fathers.  They  knew,  also,  how  to  avail  themselves  of  the 
crisis  created  by  the  Bartholomew  bushel  at  home  ;  and 
promptly  invited  some  of  the  brightest  stars  which  it  had  cov- 
ered, to  "  arise  and  shine  "  in  the  western  hemisphere.  And 
many  of  them  obeyed  the  summons.  Even  Dr.  Owen  was 
likely  to  have  accepted  a  call  to  be  pastor  of  the  first  church 
in  Boston,  had  not  the  king  laid  an  embargo  upon  him. 

However  much,  therefore,  we  may  deplore  the  Act  of  Uni- 
formity, it  became  the  axe  which  cut  down  the  principle  of 


144        whitefield's  life   and  times. 

uniformity  in  this  country.    What  the  cause  of  religious  liberty 
lost  here  for  a  time,  it  more  than  regained  in  America. 

When  these  victims  of  the  Act  of  Uniformity  arrived  in 
America,  there  were  forty  fluorishing  churches  in  New  Eng- 
land. The  emigrants,  however,  had  hardly  time  to  become 
incorporated  with  them,  or  to  taste  the  cup  of  their  sweet  fel- 
lowship, when  the  fatal  Indian  war  broke  out.  And  such 
were  its  ravages,  that  nearly  six  hundred  men,  who  were  the 
strength  both  of  the  churches  and  of  the  colony,  were  cut  off. 
And  even  this  overwhelming  loss  was  aggravated  by  a  suc- 
cession of  harassing  measures  from  home,  which  almost  ruin- 
ed the  trade  of  the  colony,  until  the  Revolution. 

The  Revolution  in  England  forms  an  epoch  in  the  ecclesias- 
tical, as  well  as  the  civil,  history  of  America.  From  that 
time,  the  churches  of  New  England  began  to  provide  for  the 
spiritual  wants  of  the  southern  provinces  ;  and  thus  stirred  up 
the  bishop  of  London  to  send  a  commissary  into  Maryland, 
who  obtained  an  act  of  the  provincial  legislature  for  a  legal 
establishment  of  episcopacy  there. 

There  was,  however,  at  this  time,  a  blot  upon  the  character 
of  New  England,  which,  if  it  had  not  been  copied  from  Old 
England,  would  call  for  severe  animadversion.  The  imputa- 
tion of  witchcraft  was  accompanied  by  the  prevalent  belief  of 
its  reality ;  and  the  lives  of  many  weak  persons  were  sacri- 
ficed to  a  blind  zeal  and  a  superstitious  credulity.  Still, 
more  persons  have  been  put  to  death  for  witchcraft  in  a  single 
county  of  England,  than  all  who  suffered  in  America.  Be- 
sides, the  chief  judge,  Sewall,  with  more  wisdom  than  our 
Hale,  confessed,  soon  after  the  sin  of  these  sentences,  in  a 
penitential  paper,  which  he  gave  in  to  his  minister  to  be  read 
publicly,  on  a  fast  day.  His  diary  also  deplores  and  con- 
demns them. 

Nothing  very>memorable  occurs  in  the  history  of  religion, 
from  this  time,  until  the  revival  at  Northampton  ;  except  its 
steady  progress  amongst  some  of  the  Indian  tribes,  and  the 
noble,  though  abortive,  effort  of  Berkley  to  provide  for  them 
all,  by  his  projected  college  at  Bermuda. 

The  remarkable  revival  of  religion  under  the  ministry  of 
Jonathan  Edwards,  was  as  timely  as  it  was  signal.  He  him- 
self, in  narrating  it,  has  said  as  little  as  possible  of  the  long 
and  deep  decay  of  vital  godliness,  which  preceded  it.  That 
sad  decay  has,  however,  but  too  many  vouchers.  "  It  began 
to  appear,"  says  Prince,   "  in  1660:    in  1570,  it  was  visible 


whitefield's  life   and  times  145 

and  threatening  :   in  1GS0,  it  was  bewailed  bitterly  by  the  few 
of  the  first  generation  who  remained." 

Governor  Stoughton,  in  a  sermon  which  he  preached  at 
Boston,  before  he  resigned  the  pulpit  for  the  bench,  proclaim- 
ed it  in  the  presence  of  the  ministry  and  the  magistracy,  that, 
since  the  death  of  the  Massachusetts'  fathers,  many  had  be- 
come like  Joash  after  the  death  of  Jehoiada,  rotten,  hypocri- 
tical— and  a  lie,!  In  1683,  the  venerable  Torrey,  of  Wey- 
mouth, also  preached  a  sermon  before  the  legislature,  and 
which  he  entitled,  "/i  Plea  for  the  Life  of  dying  Religion." | 
"  There  is,''  says  he,  "  already  a  great  death  upon  religion  ; 
little  more  left  than  a  name  to  live.  It  is  dying  as  to  the  bi;ing 
of  it,  by  the  general  failure  of  the  work  of  conversion.1'  In 
1700,  Mather  published  his  "Vindication  of  the  Order  of  the 
Gospel  in  New  England;"  in  which  he  solemnly  affirms, 
"  that  if  the  begun  apostasy  should  proceed  as  fast  the  next 
thirty  years,  as  it  has  done  these  last,  it  will  come  to  that  in 
New  England,  (except  the  gospel  itself  depart  with  the  order 
of  it,)  that  churches  must  be  gathered  out  of  churches." 
President  Willard,  also,  (the  eloquent  denouncer  of  the  pro- 
secutions for  witchcraft,)  published  in  the  same  year  his 
searching  sermon,  "  The  Perils  of  the  Times  displayed" 
"Whence,"  he  asks,  "  is  there  such  a  prevalency  of  so  many 
immoralities  amongst  professors'?  Why  so  little  success  of 
the  gospel  ?  How  few  thorough  conversions  to  be  observed  ; 
how  scarce  and  seldom  !  "  "  It  hath  been,"  he  adds,  "  a  fre- 
quent observation,  that  if  one  generation  begins  to  decline,  the 
next  that  follows  usually  grows  worse  ;  and  so  on,  until  God 
pours  out  his  Spirit  again  upon  them." 

Such  was  the  melancholy  state  of  things  which  followed  the 
death  of  the  first  puritans  and  non-conformists  in  New  Eng- 
land. The  second  generation  grew  up,  not  indeed  in  igno- 
rance nor  in  avowed  unbelief,  but  in  a  heartless  formality 
which,  itself,  relaxed  more  and  more,  as  their  fathers  went 
down  to  the  grave.  Nor  was  this  falling  off  confined  to  the 
large  towns.  It  took  place  even  in  such  remote  and  obscure 
towns  as  Northampton.  There,  after  the  death  of  the  cele- 
brated Stoddard,  who  had,  during  his  ministry,  five  signal  re- 
vivals, or,  as  he  called  them,  "  five  harvests,"  an  extraordinary 
deadness  in  religion  crept  in.  Politics  divided  the  people, 
and  pleasure  absorbed  the  young.  Family  discipline  was 
generally  neglected,   and   licentiousness  rapidly   spreading. 

13 


146       whitefield's    life    and    times. 

The  Sabbath  evening  became  the  chief  season  of  mirth  and 
dissipation. 

This  last  circumstance  led  Edwards  to  preach  a  very 
solemn  sermon  on  the  subject ;  not,  however,  that  he  held  the 
evening  of  the  Lord's  day  sacred.  They  began  their  Sabbath 
on  the  Saturday  evening,  and  closed  it  with  the  afternoon  of 
Sunday.  It  was,  therefore,  the  "  evil  tendency"  of  passing 
from  the  sanctuary  to  the  tavern  and  the  dancing  green,  that 
led  him  to  remonstrate.  He  saw  how  the  custom  was  defeat- 
ing all  his  own  labours,  and  defying  parental  authority  to 
check  it ;  and  he  singled  it  out,  and  threw  all  his  soul  into  the 
assault  against  it.  He  had  also  planned  with  the  better  dis- 
posed parents  of  his  flock,  to  take  private  measures  for  sup- 
pressing the  evil.  But  such  was  the  effect  of  the  sermon  on 
the  young  themselves,  that  they  anticipated  the  wish  both  of 
their  parents  and  pastor,  and  abandoned  at  once  and  entirely 
their  amusements  on  the  Sabbath  evening. 

This  was  the  first  step  towards  the  great  revival  at  North- 
amption.  Edwards  then  persuaded  the  young  people  to 
spend  these  evenings  in  little  meetings  for  social  prayer  and 
reading.  In  this  also  he  succeeded.  These  meetings  began 
too  at  a  time,  when  some  sudden  and  awful  deaths  had  made 
a  deep  and  solemn  impression  in  the  town.  But  still,  he 
seems  to  have  expected  nothing  extraordinary  to  evolve  from 
these  symptoms.  The  Arminian  controversy  was  raging 
around  him  at  the  time,  and  he,  in  common  with  his  pious 
friends,  was  more  afraid  of  its  influence,  than  encouraged  by 
these  "  tokens  for  good."  Indeed,  Edwards,  instead  of  ex- 
pecting or  attempting  to  produce  a  signal  revival  of  religion, 
seems  to  have  thought  only  of  defending  its  great  foundations. 
He  began  to  preach  boldly  the  sovereignty  and  freeness  of 
grace,  more  with  a  view  to  keep  error  out  of  his  church, 
than  with  the  hope  of  "winning  souls  "  by  the  truth.  Accord- 
ingly, he  himself  was  as  much,  if  not  more  surprised  than  any 
one,  when  the  great  awakening  began.  He,  however,  preach- 
ed the  truth  from  love  to  it,  and  not  for  victory;  and  the  Eter- 
nal Spirit  wrought  mightily  by  it. 

This  series  of  simple  facts  has  been  too  much  overlooked 
in  various  accounts  of  "The  work  of  God  in  Northampton." 
It  was  in  nowise  "  got  up,"  on  the  part  of  Edwards,  as  its 
enemies  have  insinuated ;  nor  was  it  so  separated  from  ra- 
tional means,  as  some  of  its  rash  friends  pretended.  It  cer- 
tainly well  deserves  to  be  called  wonderful — even  miraculous, 


WHITE  FIELD'S     LIFE     AND    TIMES.  147 

because  the  same  truth  had  never  triumphed  so  gloriously  in 
America  before  ;  but  the  means  which  the  Spirit  thus  blessed, 
were  as  natural  and  orderly  as  philosophy  herself  could  select 
or  arrange,  whilst  she  kept  the  Bible  open.  Accordingly  Dr. 
Watts  and  Dr.  Guyse  did  not  hesitate  to  call  it  "  The  renewal 
of  the  miracle  of  Gidcoris  fleece." 

The  chief  characteristics  of  this  work,  at  its  commence- 
ment, were, — a  melting  down  of  all  classes  and  ages  in  over- 
whelming solicitude  about  salvation  ;  an  absorbing  sense  of 
eternal  realities,  which  banished  all  vain  and  useless  conver- 
sation ;  a  self-abasement  and  self-condemnation,  which  ac- 
quitted God  of  all  severity,  whatever  he  might  do  ;  a  spirit  of 
secret  and  social  prayer,  which  redeemed  time  for  itself  under 
all  circumstances ;  and  a  concern  for  the  souls  of  others, 
which  watched  for  all  opportunities  of  doing  good.  It  can 
only  surprise  sciolists,  that  this  awakening,  so  sudden  and  so- 
lemn, should  have  agitated  the  body,  whilst  thus  agonizing 
the  mind.  It  produced  in  many  instances  loud  outcries,  and 
in  some  instances  convulsions.  The  loudest  cries  were  not, 
however,  so  loud  as  the  shrieks  of  Voltaire  or  Volney,  when 
the  prospect  of  eternity  unmanned  them.  What  Edwards 
said  of  those  who,  in  his  time,  resolved  the  physical  effect 
into  mental  delusion,  may  be  applied  to  all  who  echo  their 
opinion,  "  I  question  if  they  would  behave  themselves  better, 
if  they  were  equally  sensible  of  their  guilt  and  danger,  as  sin- 
ners." Not  that  Edwards  was  the  advocate  of  these  things  ; 
but  he  was  too  good  a  philosopher  to  consider  them  incompa- 
tible with  sense  or  sincerity;  and  too  honest,  to  allow  them 
to  be  called  "  a  distemper  caught  from  Whitefield  and  Ten- 
nent,"  as  some  insinuated.  He  candidly  acknowledges  they 
had  appeared  before  Whitefield  arrived.  Indeed,  they  did  not 
appear  under  his  ministry  at  all. 

" But,  what  is  the  chaff  to  the  wheat,  saith  the  Lord?" 
Whatever  were  the  accidental  extravagances  which  marked 
this  work  at  any  period  of  its  progress,  its  permanent  results 
were  "Holiness  to  the  Lord." 

Perhaps  a  better  proof  of  the  substantial  character  of  these 
conversions  cannot  be  given,  than  the  single  fact  that  most  of 
them  stood  the  severe  test  of  Edwards's  "Treatise  on  Reli- 
gious Affections  ;  "  a  work  which,  if  as  generally  read  here 
as  it  was  there,  would  tempt  a  large  portion  of  our  acknow- 
ledged converts  to  unchristianize  themselves.  There  was 
noise  in  the  new  stream  of  religious  feeling  which  broke  out  at 


148        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

Northampton  ;  and  noisy  streams  are  said  to  be  shallow ; 
but  this  one  must  have  been  an  exception  to  the  proverb,  see- 
ing it  sustained  that  weighty  book  upon  its  bosom. 

Besides,  whoever  will  duly  examine  Edwards's  "  Narra- 
tive," will  find,  to  his  surprise  and  pleasure,  all  the  usual  va- 
rieties of  experience,  which  show  themselves  in  our  own 
churches,  in  the  succession  of  single  converts.  He  was 
honoured  to  gather  at  once,  what  we  collect  slowly.  But 
with  this  exception,  and  its  natural  consequences,  the  history 
of  any  hundred  of  true  converts,  won  at  wide  intervals,  will 
present  almost  all  the  varieties  of  case,  which  were  crowded 
into  the  first  year  of  the  revival. 

Wide  and  great  as  this  revival  was,  however,  it  did  not 
penetrate  New  England  at  large,  until  Whitefield  and  Ten- 
nent  spread  it.  In  many  leading  places  the  necessity  or  the 
genuineness  of  such  a  work  was  doubted  and  denied.  The 
churches,  in  general,  were  still  in  a  Sardian  or  Laodicean 
state. 

Dr.  Holmes  says,  in  his  "  American  Annals,"  that  "the 
zeal  which  had  characterized  the  churches  in  New  England, 
at  an  earlier  period,  had,  previous  to  Whitefield's  arrival,  sub- 
sided, and  a  calm,  perhaps  lethargic,  state  ensued.  The 
discourses  from  the  desk,  though  evangelical,  were  not  im- 
passioned." Shurtleff,  of  New  Hampshire,  in  his  defence  of 
Whitefield,  says  of  the  state  of  the  churches  at  this  time, 
"  No  serious  Christian  could  behold  it  without  a  heavy  heart, 
and  scarce  without  a  weeping  eye;  to  see  the  solid,  substan- 
tial piety,  for  which  our  ancestors  were  justly  renowned, 
having  long  languished  under  sore  decays,  brought  so  low, 
and  seemingly,  just  ready  to  give  up  the  ghost."  Edwards 
says  of  the  colleges,  "  It  certainly  has,  sometimes,  been  so 
with  our  colleges,  that,  instead  of  being  places  of  the  greatest 
advantage  for  true  piety,  one  cannot  send  a  child  thither, 
without  great  danger  of  his  being  infected  as  to  his  morals." 
Dr.  Chauncy  denies  this  charge,  in  unqualified  terms ;  but 
when  he  proceeds  to  disprove  it,  the  only  argument  he  ad- 
duces is,  that,  during  twenty  years,  he  had  never  known 
Harvard  College  "  under  better  circumstances  in  point  of 
religion,  good  order,  and  learning,  than  at  this  day."  What 
it  really  was,  may,  perhaps,  be  gathered  from  the  fact,  that 
Whitefield,  in  his  Letter  to  the  students,  when  they  became 
serious,  says,  "  It  was  no  small  grief  to  me,  that  I  was 
obliged  to  say  of  your  college,  that  '■your  light    was   dark' 


WHITE  FIELD'S     LIFE     AND     TIMES.  149 

ness  ;'  yet  are  ye  now  become  light  in  the  Lord.  Now  we 
may  expect  a  reformation  indeed,  since  it  is  beginning  at  the 
house  of  God." 

In  regard  to  the  general  state  of  the  churches,  even  Dr. 
Chauncy  cannot  effectually  conceal  the  low  ebb  of  spiritual 
religion,  at  this  time.  In  spite  of  all  his  special  pleadings, 
it  betrays  itself  throughout  the  whole  series  of  his  "Season- 
able Thoughts  on  the  State  of  Religion  in  New  England." 
At  the  close  of  that  strange  book  he  acknowledges,  "that  dis- 
orderly loalkers  have  been  suffered  to  take  their  course,  with- 
out the  administration  of  those  censures  which  are  proper 
to  the  kingdom  of  Jesus  Christ.  Have  they  not  been  left 
to  themselves,  to  act  as  they  please,  without  public  notice, 
any  more  than  if  they  sustained  no  relation  to  the  church  of 
God  ? » 

It  is  equally  painful  to  review  or  record  these  melancholy 
facts.  It  is,  however,  necessary  to  do  both,  in  order  to  form 
a  just  estimate  of  the  spirit,  the  character,  and  effects,  of 
Whitefield's  preaching  in  New  England.  He  went  there, 
not  to  spy  out  the  nakedness  of  the  land,  nor  to  search  for 
declensions  ;  but,  to  be  "refreshed  amongst  the  descendants 
of  the  good  old  puritans."  It  was,  therefore,  with  as  much 
surprise  as  regret,  that  he  found  "  the  fine  gold  "  of  puritan- 
ism  "  dim."  Indeed,  it  was  not  until  Dr.  Chauncy  and 
others  began  to  caricature  the  revivals,  that  Whitefield  began 
to  suspect  the  spirituality  of  the  ministry.  His  correspondr 
ence  with  Dr.  Colman  and  Mr.  Cooper,  of  Boston,  and  his 
recorded  memorials  of  all  the  devoted  ministers  he  met  with, 
prove  that  he  was  inclined,  and  even  solicitous,  to  be  pleased 
with  New  England. 

Whitefield  had,  however,  seen  enough,  in  Philadelphia,  to 
convince  him,  that  both  the  matter  and  spirit  of  his  preaching 
in  England  were  equally  wanted  in  America.  He  accordingly 
wielded,  in  New-York  and  Boston,  all  the  spiritual  and  splen- 
did weapons  which  he  had  employed  at  London  and  Bristol. 
The  effect  at  Boston  was  amazing.  Old  Mr.  Walter,  the 
successor  of  Eliot,  the  apostle  of  the  Indians,  said,  "  It  was 
puritanism  revived.''  Such  was  the  interest  excited  by  his 
preaching,  that  his  farewell  sermon  was  attended  by  20,000 
persons.  And,  during  his  visit,  it  was  testified  by  the  first 
authorities  in  the  city,  that  many  of  the  careless  were 
awakened,  and  more  of  the  lukewarm  quickened.  "  Such  a 
power  and  presence  of  God  with  a  preacher,  and  in  religious 

13* 


150         whitefield's   life   and    times. 

assemblies," savs  Dr.  Colman,"I  never  saw  before."  "Every 
day  gives  me  fresh  proofs  of  Christ  speaking  in  him.  A  small 
set  of  gentlemen  amongst  us,  when  they  saw  the  affections 
of  the  people  so  moved  under  his  preaching,  would  attribute 
it  only  to  the  force  of  sound  and  gestures.  But  the  impres- 
sions on  many  were  so  lasting,  and  have  been  so  transforming, 
as  to  carry  plain  signatures  of  a  divine  hand  going  along  with 
him."  All  this  was,  if  possible,  exceeded  at  Northampton, 
when  Whitefield  visited  Jonathan  Edwards,  and  reminded  his 
people  of  "  the  days  of  old."  "  It  was,"  says  Gillies,  "  like 
putting  fire  to  tinder."  Similar  success  attended  his  ministry 
in  the  town  and  college  of  New-Haven.  In  the  latter,  it  over- 
threw the  self-righteousness  of  the  celebrated  Hopkins,  and 
fanned  into  a  flame  the  zeal  of  David  BkaIiNErd — a  name  that 
needs  no  epithet. 

In  like  manner  at  Harvard  College,  the  effect  was  great. 
The  honourable  Secretary  Willard  says,  in  a  letter  to  \\  hite- 
field,  "  That  which  forebodes  the  most  lasting  advantage  is, 
the  new  state  of  things  in  the  college,  where  the  impressions 
of  religion  have  been,  and  still  are,  very  general ;  and  many, 
in  a  judgment  of  charity,  bro'ight  home  to  Christ.  Divers 
gentlemen's  sons,  that  were  sent  there  only  for  a  more  polite 
education,  are  now  so  full  of  zeal  for  the  cause  of  Christ,  and 
of  love  to  souls,  as  to  devote  themselves  entirely  to  the  studies 
of  divinity."  Dr.  Colman  also  informed  \\  hitefield  of  this 
fact.  "At  Cambridge,  the  college  is  entirely  changed  ;  the 
students  are  full  of  God,  and  will,  I  hope,  come  out  blessings 
in  their  generation  ;  and,  I  trust,  are  so  now  to  each  other. 
Many  of  them  are  now,  we  think,  truly  born  again,  and 
several  of  them  happy  instruments  of  conversion  to  their 
fellows.  The  voice  of  prayer  and  praise  fills  their  chambers  ; 
and  sincerity,  fervency,  and  joy,  with  seriousness  of  heart,  sit 
visibly  on  their  faces.  I  was  told  yesterday,  that,  not  seven 
of  a  hundred  remain  unaffected.  I  know  how  the  good 
tidings  will  affect  you.  God  give  you  like  joy  every  where  in 
the  fruit  of  your  labours."  Thus  Whitefield  was  then  to  the 
churches  and  colleges,  what  Washington  was  afterwards  to  the 
states. 

Such  were  the  results  of  his  first  visit  to  New  England. 
And  it  deserves  special  notice,  that  they  were  accompanied 
with  none  of  the  extravagances  which  marked  the  revival  soon 
after.  Much  has  been  written  on  the  subject  of  the  subsequent 
effects  of  this  mighty  impulse  ;  but,  after  deliberately  weigh- 


WHITEPI  ELD's     LIFE     AND     TIMES.  151 

ing  the  works  on  both  sides,  I  am  fully  persuaded  that  White- 
field  himself  has  given  the  most  judicious  view  of  the  whole 
matter.  On  his  return  to  Boston,  in  1715,  he  writes  thus  : 
"Some  occasions  of  offence  had  undoubtedly  been  given, 
whilst  I  was  here,  (before,)  and  preached  up  and  down  the 
country.  Nothing,  however,  appeared  but  a  pure  divine  pow- 
er, working  upon,  converting,  and  transforming  people's 
hearts,  of  all  ranks — without  any  extraordinary  phenomena 
attending  it.  Good  Mr.  Tennent  succeeded  me  :  numbers 
succeeded  him.  Lecture  upon  lecture  was  set  up  in  various 
places.  One  minister  called  to  another  to  help  to  drag  the 
gospel  net.  And,  by  all  the  accounts  I  can  have  from  private 
information,  or  good  Mr.  Prince's  weekly  history,  one  would 
have  imagined  the  millennium  was  coming  indeed.  But  in 
this  mixed  state  of  things,  wild  fire  will  necessarily  blend  itself 
with  the  pure  fire  that  comes  from  God's  altar.  This  the 
enemy  long  waited  for.  At  last,  it  broke  out  and  spread  it- 
self; and,  it  must  be  confessed,  by  the  instrumentality  of 
many  good  souls,  both  among  clergy  and  laity  ;  who,  mistak- 
ing fancy  for  faith,  and  imagination  for  revelation,  were  guilty 
of  great  imprudence.  All  is  laid  to  me,  as  being  the  primum 
mobile  ;  though  there  was  not  so  much  as  the  appearance  of 
any  thing  of  this  nature,  when  I  left  New  England  last.  But, 
maugre  all,  my  poor  labours  are  yet  attended  with  the  usual 
blessings." 

That  Whitefield  has  fairly  characterized  the  first  aspect  of 
this  work,  will  be  seen  from  the  following  public  testimony, 
by  three  of  the  principal  ministers  in  Boston;  Prince,  Webb, 
Cooper.     It  came  out  the  year  after  his  first  visit. 

'*The  wondrous  work  of  God,  at  this  day,  making  its  tri- 
umphant progress  through  the  land,  has  forced  many  men  of 
clear  minds,  strong  powers,  considerable  knowledge,  and 
firmly  rivetted  in  Arminian  and  Socinian  tenets,  to  give 
them  all  up  at  once,  and  yield  to  the  adorable  sovereignty  and 
irresistibility  of  the  divine  Spirit,  in  his  saving  operations  on 
the  souls  of  men.  For,  to  see  such  men  as  these,  some  of 
them  of  licentious  lives,  long  inured  in  a  course  of  vices,  and 
of  high  spirits,  coming  to  the  preaching  of  the  word;  some 
only  out  of  curiosity,  and  mere  design  to  get  matter  of  cavil- 
ling and  banter;  all  at  once,  in  opposition  to  their  inward 
enmity,  resolutions,  and  resistances,  to  fall  under  an  unex- 
pected and  hated  power  ;  to  have  all  the  strength  of  their 
resolution  and  resistance  taken  away  ;  to  have  such  inward 


152  WHITE  F  I  ELD'S     LIFE     AND    TIMES. 

views  of  tho  horrid  wickedness,  not  only  of  their  lives  but  of 
their  hearts,  with  their  exceeding  great  and  immediate  danger 
of  eternal  misery,  as  has  amazed  their  souls,  and  thrown  them 
into  distress  unutterable,  yen,  forced  them  to  cry  out  in  the 
assemblies  with  the  greatest  agonies  :  and  then,  in  two  or 
three  days,  and  sometimes  sooner,  to  have  such  unexpected 
and  raised  views  of  the  infinite  grace  and  love  of  God  in 
Christ,  as  have  enabled  them  to  believe  in  him  ;  lifted  them 
at  once  out  of  their  distresses  ;  filled  their  hearts  with  admi- 
ration ;  and  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory  breaking  forth 
in  their  shining  countenances  and  transporting  voices,  to  the 
surprise  of  those  about  them  : — and  to  see  them  kindling  up, 
at  once,  into  a  flame  of  love  to  God,  an  utter  detestation  of 
their  former  courses,  and  vicious  habits;  yea,  by  such  a  de- 
testation, that  the  very  power  of  these  habits  receive,  at  once, 
a  mortal  wound  :  in  short,  to  see  their  high  spirits,  on  a  sud- 
den, humbled;  their  hard  hearts  made  tender  ;  their  aversion 
to  the  Holy  Ghost,  now  turned  into  a  powerful  and  prevail- 
ing bent  to  contemplate  Him  as  revealed  in  Christ ;  to  labour 
to  be  like  him  in  holiness  ;  to  please  and  honour  Him  by  a 
universal  and  glad  conformity  to  his  will  and  nature  ;  and  to 
promote  his  holy  kingdom  in  all  about  them — loving  them, 
forgiving  them,  asking  forgiveness  of  them — abounding  in 
acts  of  justice  and  charity,  in  a  meek  and  condescending 
carriage  towards  the  meanest,  and  aspiring  after  higher 
sanctity. 

"And  to  see  other  gentlemen,  of  the  like  parts,  knowledge, 
and  principles  ;  and  of  sober,  just,  and  religious  lives,  as  far 
as  mere  reason,  with  outward  revelation,  is  able  to  carry  them ; 
and  prepossessed  against  this  work  as  imagined  enthusiasm  ; 
yet,  at  once,  surprised  to  find  themselves  entirely  destitute  of 
that  inward  sanctity,  and  supreme  love  to  God,  which  the  gos- 
pel teaches  as  absolutely  needful  ;  to  find  themselves  no 
more  than  conceited  Pharisees,  who  had  been  working  out  a 
righteousness  for  their  own  justification  ;  and  to  have  a  clear 
discovery  of  their  inward  enmity  to  Christ,  and  to  the  nature 
and  way  of  redemption  by  him ;  with  the  vileness  of  their 
hearts  and  lives,  which  they  had  never  seen  before  :  in  short, 
to  find  themselves  yet  unrenewed  in  the  spirit  of  their  minds, 
and  under  the  heavy  wrath  and  curse  of  God ;  to  lose  all  their 
former  confidence  ;  give  up  their  beloved  schemes  ;  to  see 
themselves  undone  and  helpless,  and  sink  into  great  distress  ; 
and  then,  condemning  themselves  as  guilty  wretches,  humbly 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         153 

lying  at  the  foot  of  absolute  and  sovereign  grace,  looking  up 
to  Christ  as  the  only  Mediator,  to  reconcile  them  to  God,  to 
justify  them  wholly  by  his  own  righteousness,  and  to  enlight- 
en, sanctify,  and  govern  them  by  his  Holy  Spirit  ;  and  there 
to  wait,  till  they  find  a  new  and  mighty  life  and  power  come 
into  their  souls,  enabling  them  to  embrace,  trust  in,  and  love 
this  divine  Redeemer  ;  rejoice  with  satisfaction  in  him  ;  and 
perform  every  kind  of  duty,  both  to  God  and  man,  with  plea- 
sure, and  with  quite  another  spirit  than  before." 

Whilst  such  were  the  moral  effects  of  this  American  Pente- 
cost, well  might  the  eloquent  Parsons,  of  Byfield,  say  to  the 
mockers  and  opposers,  "  Whilst  you  stand  amazed  at  the 
rings  of  the  wheel,  as  things  too  high  and  dreadful  for  you  ; 
whilst  you  know  not  what  to  make  of  the  effusions  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  but  are  stumbling  at  every  thing  amiss  ;  beware, 
lest  that  come  upon  you,  which  is  spoken  of  by  the  prophets, 
'  Behold,  ye  despisers,  and  wonder,  and  perish.'  Dear,  im- 
mortal souls  !  I  beseech  and  persuade  you,  by  the  mercies  of 
God,  and  the  astonishing  love  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that 
you  would  not  sacrifice  the  operations  of  the  blessed  Spirit  to 
your  own  prejudice,  by  means  of  our  imperfections." 

When  Whitefield  saw  the  first  fruits  of  this  harvest,  he 
wisely  pressed  into  the  field,  as  his  successor,  Gilbert  Ten- 
nent.  The  American  Biographical  Dictionary  says  of  Ten- 
nent,  "He  was  born  in  Ireland,  and  brought  to  this  country 
by  his  father  ;  by  whom  also  he  was  educated  for  the  minis- 
try. As  a  preacher  he  was,  in  his  vigorous  days,  equalled  by 
but  few.  His  reasoning  powers  were  strong  ;  his  language 
forcible  and  often  sublime  ;  and  his  manner  of  address  warm 
and  earnest.  His  eloquence  was,  however,  rather  bold  and 
awful,  than  soft  and  persuasive.  He  was  most  pungent  in  his 
addresses  to  the  conscience.  When  he  wished  to  alarm  the 
sinner,  he  could  represent,  in  the  most  awful  manner,  the  ter- 
rors of  the  Lord.  With  admirable  dexterity  he  exposed  the 
false  hope  of  the  hypocrite,  and  searched  the  corrupt  heart  to 
the  bottom."  Such  was  the  man  whom  Whitefield  chose  to 
take  his  place  in  the  American  valley  of  vision  when  the  "  dry 
bones"  began  to  shake.  And  he  entered  on  his  new  sphere 
with  almost  rustic  simplicity  ;  wearing  his  hair  undressed, 
and  a  large  great  coat  girt  with  a  leathern  girdle.  But  his 
♦'lofty  stature  and  grave  aspect  dignified"  the  whole.  He  had 
been  remarkably  useful  in  his  former  station  in  New-Jers^v  ; 
and  now,  in  New-England,  his  ministry  was  hardly  less  sue- 


1F4       whitefield's    life    and    times. 

cessful  than  that  of  Whitefield's  had  been.  Much  of  the 
happy  change  which  we  have  just  reviewed,  is  ascribed  by 
Whitefield  himself  to  the  instrumentality  of  Tennent.  He 
actually  shook  the  country,  as  with  an  earthquake.  Where- 
ever  he  came,  hypocrisy  and  pharisaisin  either  fell  before 
him,  or  gnashed  their  teeth  against  him.  Cold  orthodoxy 
also  started  from  her  downy  cushion  to  imitate  or  to  denounce 
him.  For,  like  Elijah  on  Carmel,  he  made  neutrality  an  im- 
possibility. Accordingly,  the  attack  upon  him  soon  began,  in 
the  true  spirit  of  mortified  pride,  by  arraigning  his  motives.  It 
commenced  in  the  Boston  newspaper,  in  the  form  of  a  letter  ; 
of  which  Dr.  Chauncy,  who  was  then  the  American  Sachev- 
erell,  was,  no  doubt,  the  author.  At  least,  he  has  made  it  his 
own,  by  republishing  it,  without  note  or  comment.  "  Pray, 
sir,  let  me  put  it  to  your  conscience  ;  was  not  the  reason  of 
your  travelling  so  many  miles  (300)  to  preach  the  gospel  in 
this  place,  founded  on  the  insufficiency  of  the  ministers  here 
for  their  office  1  Had  you  not  some  suspicion  that  they 
were  not  converted  1  Perhaps  you  only  thought  that  you 
might  do  a  deal  more  good  1  Is  not  this  too  near  to  vanity?" 
This  is  a  specimen  of  the  letter  to  Tennent ;  and  in  the  same 
spirit,  Chauncy  assailed;  the  character  and  motives  of  White- 
field,  and  criticised  the  "  The  Narrative  and  Vindication  of 
the  Work  of  God,"  by  Edwards.  By  his  own  confession,  he 
travelled  farther  to  collect  the  materials  of  his  book  against, 
what  he  called,  "  the  new  light,"  than  Tennent  did  to  guard 
that  light.  The  book  itself  was  answered  by  various  writers ; 
but  the  best  reproof  it  called  forth,  was  administered  by  a 
venerable  lady,  who  had  been  converted  under  the  ministry  of 
Flavel.  "  New  light !  "  she  exclaimed;  "  it  may  be  new  to 
such  as  never  saw  it  before  ;  but  it  is  what  I  saw  fifty  years 
ago,  from  good  Mr.  Flavel." 

Chauncy's  principal  charge  against  Whitefield  is, — "that  he 
seldom  preached  without  saying  something  against  unconvert- 
ed ministers."  "  The  first  error  I  would  take  notice  of,"  he 
says,  "  is  that  which  supposes  ministers,  if  not  converted,  in- 
capable of  being  instruments  of  spiritual  good  to  men's  souls. 
Mr.  Whitefield  very  freely  vented  this  error.  He  said,  the 
reason  why  congregations  have  been  so  dead,  is,  because 
they  have  dead  men  preaching  to  them."  "  But  conversion," 
says  Chauncy,  "does  not  appear  to  be  alike  necessary  for 
ministers,  in  their  public  capacity  as  officers  of  the  church,  as 
it  is  in  their  private  capacity."    If  this  was  untenable  ground, 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        155 

the  Doctor  was  still  more  unfortunate,  when  he  attempted  to 
vindicate  his  brethren  by  quoting  from  Cotton  Mather.  Ma- 
ther says,  "  No  man  becomes  a  minister,  or  a  communicant  in 
our  churches,  until  he  hath  been  severely  examined  about  his 
regeneration,  as  well  as  conversation."  Backus,  in  bis  "  His- 
tory of  the  American  Baptists."  answers  this  appeal  in  a  few 
words.  "  When  was  it  so  1  This  testimony  was  given  in 
1696.  How  does  it  prove  that  their  practice  remained  the 
same  in  1740?" 

These  animadversions  upon  the  conduct  and  writings  of  Dr. 
Chauncy  are  necessary,  because  his  influence  was  great,  and 
eventually  beneficial.  For,  whilst  his  work  on  "  The  State 
of  Religion,"  is  contemptible  in  many  respects,  and  especially 
in  all  that  regards  Whitefield  and  Tennent,  it  is  invaluable  as 
an  antidote  to  the  extravagances  of  conduct  and  sentiment 
which,  in  seasons  of  high  and  general  excitement,  the  weak 
and  the  ignorant  are  so  prone  to  fall  into.  It  is  only  bare  justice 
to  make  this  acknowledgment ;  for  Dr.  Chauncy  has  em- 
bodied in  the  work  the  best  sentiments  of  our  best  divines, 
upon  the  subject  of  the  operations  and  fruits  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  And  these  well-selected  extracts  are  such  an  antidote 
to  his  own  poison,  that  they  could  not  have  failed  to  correct 
the  rashness  and  folly  of  others. 

It  was,  however,  the  poison  which  operated  first.  The 
representations  of  the  party,  of  which  the  Doctor  was  the 
champion,  produced  edicts  of  synod  and  assembly,  which 
made  the  Saybrook  platform  all  but  a  scaffold.  Ministers 
who  should  preach  out  of  their  own  parishes  without  permis- 
sion, were  subject  to  be  treated  as  "  vagrants,"  and  to  be 
"banished  from  the  colony  ;"  and  if  they  returned,  to  "  pay 
the  expenses  of  their  transportation  ;  besides  being  imprison- 
ed until  they  should  give  a  bond  of  £100,  not  to  offend  again." 
Backus.  The  full  force  of  these  sad  measures  was  confined 
chiefly  to  Connecticut :  and  there  Dr.  Finlay,  the  successor 
of  President  Davies,  was  thus  treated. 

Such  was  the  state  of  things  in  New  England,  on  "White- 
field's  second  visit.  But  neither  the  acts  of  assembly,  nor 
the  example  of  the  leading  ministers,  could  prevent  the  peo- 
ple from  welcoming  him  with  acclamation.  They  voted  him 
into  some  of  the  churches,  which  would  otherwise  have  been 
shut  against  him ;  and  prevailed  on  him  to  preach  early  in  the 
morning,  as  he  had  done  in  Scotland.  These  morning  lec- 
tures were  soon  so  pcpular,  that  it  became  proverbial  in  Bos- 


156  WniTEFIELD's     LIFE     AND     TIMES. 

ton,  that,  between  early  rising  to  hoar  YVhitefield,  and  the  use 
of  tar-watcr,  the  physicians  would  have  no  practice.  Dining 
this  visit,  he  made  an  extensive  tour  in  New  England,  with 
great  success.  At  the  close  of  it,  he  says  in  his  journal, 
"  We  saw  great  things.  The  flocking  and  power  that  attend- 
ed the  word,  was  like  unto  that  seven  years  ago.  Weak  as  I 
was  and  have  been,  I  was  enabled  to  travel  eleven  hundred 
miles,  and  to  preach  daily.  I  am  now  going  to  Georgia  to 
winter." 

This  preliminary  sketch  of  American  ecclesiastical  history, 
although  it  anticipates  not  a  few  of  Whitefield's  movements 
in  the  western  world,  will  enable  the  reader  to  appreciate 
both  their  wisdom  and  necessity,  when  they  are  recorded  at 
length,  and  in  their  order,  from  his  journals. 

The  question,  Why  did  Whitefield  go  to  America  in  the 
first  instance  1  has  never  been  satisfactorily  answered.  I 
have  recorded,  in  his  early  life,  some  of  his  views  and  feelings 
on  the  subject,  without  attempting  to  account  for  them,  or  to 
explain  them.  They  are  remarkable.  He  uniformly  speaks 
of  his  object  as  "  a  great  work;"  and  represents  himself  as 
"  a  stripling  going  forth  like  David  against  Goliath."  He 
prays  most  fervently  for  "  such  a  deep  humility,  well-guided 
zeal,  and  burning  love,"  as  should  enable  him  to  defy  "  men 
and  devils,"  even  if  they  did  "their  worst."  Now  all  this  is 
rather  too  much  to  be  applied  exclusively  to  the  claims  of  an 
infant  colony  ;  except,  indeed,  he  foresaw  what  it  would  be- 
come eventually.  Foresight  of  this  kind,  however,  was  not 
natural  to  him.  Whitefield  did  not  "  see  afar  off,"  into  the 
progress  of  society,  or  the  bearings  of  colonization.  He 
opened  no  long  nor  current  accounts  with  Time,  but  only 
with  Eternity.  How  his  doings  would  tell  upon  future  ages 
and  generations — he  seems  never  to  have  calculated.  His 
immediate  object  was  to  win  souls,  and  his  final  object,  to 
present  them  before  the  throne  "  with  exceeding  joy." 

Such  being  the  cast  of  Whitefield's  mind,  as  well  as  of  his 
spirit,  a  new  and  destitute  colony  could  absorb  him,  as  fully 
as  the  hope  of  being  another  "  apostle  of  the  Indians,"  or 
another  Eliot,  did  Wesley.  That  brilliant  hope  does  not 
seem  to  have  dazzled  Whitefield  at  all.  At  least  I  have 
searched  in  vain  for  any  distinct  proof,  that  the  example  of 
Eliot  inspired  him,  or  that  the  sanguine  expectations  of  the 
Wesleys  were  shared  by  him.  No  where  does  he  express 
hopes  of  great  success,  nor  explain  his  errand  (as  they  did) 


whitbfield's    life    and    times.         157 

by  a  desire  to  "  save  his  soul."  Whatever  he  anticipated  or 
intended  in  reference  to  the  Indians  on  the  banks  of  the  Sa- 
vannah, he  said  but  little  ;  and  that  little  only  to  an  Indian 
trader  in  confidence.  182  Let.  He  may,  however,  have 
cherished  fond  expectations,  although  he  did  not  utter  them 
as  the  VVesleys  did.  Not  that  he  was  more  prudent  than  his 
friends.  In  general,  Whitefield  thought  aloud.  It  is  possi- 
ble, however,  that  his  reference  to  the  prophecy,  "  I  will  make 
thee  the  head  of  the  heathen,"  may  mean  more  than  meets 
the  eye.  I  am  not  making  a  mystery  of  his  silence.  It  is 
easily  explained  by  the  single  fact,  that  he  went  out,  intend- 
ing to  return  to  England  in  the  course  of  the  year,  to  "  take 
priest's  orders."  He  could  not,  therefore,  anticipate  much 
success  from  so  short  a  visit  to  America.  Besides,  his  si- 
lence is  only  too  easily  accounted  for,  by  the  oracular  sum- 
mons to  return  immediately,  which  Wesley  addressed  to  him, 
as  their  vessels  met  and  passed  in  the  Channel.  What  I 
mean  to  say,  therefore,  is,  that  nothing  but  the  future  results 
of  his  American  enterprise  can  explain  its  origin.  It  was 
"  the  burden  of  the  Lord"  upon  his  spirit;  deeply  felt,  but 
not  fully  understood  by  himself  at  the  time,  nor  ever  perhaps 
in  this  world.  Only  He,  who  "  seeth  the  end  from  the  be- 
ginning," foresaw  the  bearings  of  Whitefield's  mission  to 
Georgia,  upon  America.  We  can  now  see  many  of  the  rea- 
sons why  "  the  Spirit  did  not  suffer"  him  to  remain  in  Eng- 
land :  America  needed  him,  in  a  sense  he  did  not  suppose, 
and  to  an  extent  she  herself  did  not  suspect;  and  the  reasons 
of  his  mission  are  not  all  unfolded  yet.  It  had  much  influence* 
upon  the  recent  revivals  in  that  country,  when  they  be§an  ; 
and  is  likely  to  have  stiil  more  as  they  proceed.  In  the  mean- 
time, by  a  curious  coincidence,  the  new  revivals  in  America 
are  assailed  under  the  shelter  of  high-sounding  compliments 
to  the  old.  What  Dr.  Chauncy  denounced  as  wild  extrava- 
gance, in  the  times  of  Whitefield,  Calvin  Colton  eulogizes  as 
prudent  zeal,  in  his  "  Reasons  for  preferring  Episcopacy." 
The  truth  or  the  merits  of  Cotton's  parting  charges  against 
his  former  connexions,  I  am  unable  to  appreciate  ;  but  it  is 
pleasing  to  find,  that  the  episcopal  church  allows  a  new  cham- 
pion to  compliment  old  revivals.  She  ought  not,  however,  to 
plume  herself  on  the  compliments  paid  to  her  "  orders,"  at 
the  expense  of  the  English  independents,  by  Colton.  By 
what  infatuation  could  he  have  so  forgotten  all  he  saw  and  heard 
of  us,  as  to  tell  America  that  we  prefer  recognition  to  ordina- 

14 


158        whitefield'slife    and  times. 

tion  1    It  is  the  very  sacredness  in  which  we  hold  the  latter, 
that  leads  to  the  distinction. 

Whitefield,  as  we  have  seen,  arrived  at  Georgia  in  1738. 
"When  able  to  look  about  him,"  says  Dr.  Gillies,  "he  found 
every  thing  bore  the  aspect  of  an  infant  colony  ;  and  what 
was  more  discouraging  still,  he  saw  it  was  likely  to  continue 
so,  by  the  nature  of  its  constitution.  The  people  were  de- 
nied the  use  of  both  rum  and  slaves ! "  This  Whitefield 
wrote,  and  this  Gillies  recorded,  without  any  comment.  In- 
deed, Whitefield  considered  the  denial  of  rum  and  slaves,  as 
more  than  a  misfortune  to  the  colony.  Hence  he  adds,  (after 
stating  that  female  heirs  were  not  allowed  to  inherit  lands,) 
"  so  that,  in  reality,  to  place  a  people  there  on  such  a  footing, 
was  little  better  than  to  tie  their  legs  and  bid  them  walk. 
The  scheme  was  well  meant  at  home;  but,  as  too  many 
years'  experience  evidently  proved,  it  was  absolutely  imprac- 
ticable in  so  hot  a  country  abroad." 

How  differently  would  Whitefield  write,  if  alive,  now!  But 
then,  he  was  not  wiser  than  his  times,  on  the  subject  of 
slavery.  Indeed,  he  soon  became  a  slave  owner,  when  he 
founded  his  orphan-house  at  Georgia.  I  have  seen  the  in- 
ventory, in  his  own  hand-writing,  of  the  dead  and  live  stock 
belonging  to  that  establishment.  In  that  document,  carts, 
cattle,  and  slaves,  are  described  and  valued  with  equal  forma- 
lity and  nonchalance! 

I  might  have  concealed  this  fact,  now  that  there  are  Ame- 
ricans who  may  employ  it  in  their  own  justification ;  but  I 
»  have  not  hid  it,  because  even  they  cannot  hide  from  them- 
sel«es  the  fact,  that  Whitefield  ought  never  to  have  held  a 
slave.  It  was  not  like  himself — it  was  unworthy  of  him,  to 
do  so!  So  it  is  of  every  American  Christian.  "  I  wot  that 
through  ignorance  "  he  did  it,  as  did  their  and  our  fathers. 
He  would  not  do  it  now.  Who  does  not,  instinctively,  feel 
this]  How  difficult  it  is  to  believe  that  ever  George  White- 
field  could  have  written  the  following  words  !  In  his  memo- 
rial to  the  governor  of  Georgia,  for  a  grant  of  lands  to  found 
a  college,  he  urges  his  request  by  stating,  that  "  a  considera- 
ble sum  of  money  is  intended  speedily  to  be  laid  out  in  pur- 
chasing a  large  number  of  negroes."  In  his  memorial  to  the 
king,  praying  for  a  charter  to  the  intended  college,  he  pledges 
himself  to  "  give  up  his  trust,  and  make  a  free  gift  of  all 
lands,  negroes,  goods  and  chattels,  which  he  now  stands  pos- 
sessed of  in  the  province  of  Georgia,  for  the  present  found- 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         159 

ing,  and  towards  the  future  support,  of  a  college,  to  be  called 
Bethesda."  He  makes  a  similar  appeal  to  the  archbishop  of 
Canterbury  ;  informing  him  that  "  the  number  of  negroes, 
young  and  old,  is  about  thirty  ;  "  and  proving  to  him,  that  by 
"  laying  out  only  a  thousand  pounds  in  purchasing  an  addi- 
tional number  of  negroes,''  the  income  of  the  college  would 
be  "  easily  and  speedily  augmented."  In  his  own  printed 
account  of  the  state  of  the  orphan-house  in  1770,  be  thus 
classes  the  negroes:  men  24,  women  11,  children  15.  In 
the  college  rules,  drawn  up  by  himself,  although  not  unmind- 
ful of  the  coloured  branches  of  his  family,  he  makes  a  strange 
distinction  :  "  The  young  negro  boys  to  be  baptized  and 
taught  to  read.  The  young  negro  girls  to  be  taught  to  work 
with  the  needle."     "  Lord,  what  is  man!  " 

Whitefield  did  not,  however,  forget  the  negroes  in  his 
preaching.  It  was  not  uncommon  for  him  to  close  his  ser- 
mons thus  :  "  I  must  not  forget  the  poor  negroes  ;  no,  I  must 
not !  Jesus  Christ  died  for  them  as  well  as  for  others.  Nor 
do  I  mention  you  last,  because  I  despise  your  souls ;  but  be- 
cause I  would  have  what  I  shall  say  make  the  deeper  impres- 
sion on  your  hearts.  Oh  that  you  would  seek  the  Lord  to  be 
your  righteousness  !  Who  knows  but  he  may  be  found  of 
you  1  For  in  Christ  Jesus  there  is  neither  male  nor  female, 
bond  nor  free  ;  even  you  may  be  the  children  of  God,  if  you 
believe  in  Jesus.  Did  you  never  read  of  the  eunuch  belong- 
ing to  the  queen  of  Candace  ? — a  negro  like  yourselves.  He 
believed.  The  Lord  was  his  righteousness.  He  was  bap- 
tized. Do  you  also  believe — and  you  shall  be  saved.  Christ 
Jesus  is  the  same  now  as  he  was  yesterday,  and  will  wash 
you  in  his  own  blood.  Go  home,  then — and  turn  the  words 
into  a  prayer,  and  entreat  the  Lord  to  be  your  righteousness. 
Even  so,  come,  Lord  Jesus,  come  quickly,  into  all  our  souls  ! 
Amen,  Lord  Jesus,  Amen  and  Amen!  "     Serm.  1 4. 

Whitefield  embarked  for  Philadelphia,  with  a  family  con- 
sisting of  eight  men,  one  boy,  and  two  children,  besides  his 
zealous  and  munificent  friend,  Mr.  Seward ;  leaving  the 
bishop  of  London,  and  whoever  else  it  might  concern,  to  di- 
gest as  they  could  the  blunt  and  bold  answer  to  the  "  Pastoral 
Letter;"  a  Letter  which  Gibson  ought  not  to  have  written, 
and  Watts  never  to  have  sanctioned  ;  for  its  moral  excellen- 
cies and  just  discriminations,  however  well  meant,  were  mix- 
ed up  with  maxims  subversive  of  the  gospel  of  the  grace  of 
God.     This  conviction  Whitefield  proclaimed  before  20,000 


160        whitefield's  life   and  times. 

people  at  Blackheath,  on  the  clay  the  letter  appeared;  and  he 
wrote  in  his  diary  that  night,  after  going  on  hoard,  the  follow- 
ing note  :  "  I  felt  great  freedom  in  myself,  and  could  not  but 
take  notice  of  a  mistake  his  lordship  of  London  was  guilty 
of; — for  he  exhorts  his  clergy,  so  to  explain  the  doctrine  of 
justification  by  faith  alone,  as  to  make  our  good  works  a 
necessary  condition  of  it.  St.  Paul  pronounces  a  dreadful 
anathema  against  those  who  join  faith  and  works  together, 
in  order  to  their  being  justified  in  the  sight  of  God.  I  pray 
God,  that  all  preachers  may  be  freed  from  so  tremendous  a 
sentence  !  And  let  all  the  people  say,  Amen  and  Amen." 

I  mention  this  fact  again,  because  it  gave  Whitefield  a 
new  point  to  contend  for,  which  much  improved  his  views  of 
the  point  he  began  with  ;  for  at  first,  he  almost  put  regene- 
ration in  the  room  of  justification  ;  as  well  as  preached  too 
little  of  the  truth,  by  which  the  Spirit  regenerates  the  soul. 

The  delay  of  the  vessel  in  the  river  enabled  him  to  answer 
the  bishop  before  sailing  ;  and  the  new  question  absorbed  him 
in  thought  and  reading,  throughout  the  voyage.  Not,  how- 
ever, so  as  to  divert  him  from  the  duties  of  a  ship  chaplain. 
These  he  discharged  with  the  same  fidelity  as  formerly  ;  but 
as  they  did  not  make  so  much  demand  upon  his  time,  he  gave 
himself  "  to  reading." 

Amongst  the  books  which  helped  him  mightily  at  this  time, 
were  Jonathan  Warne's  "  Church  of  England  Man  turned 
Dissenter"  and  "  Arminianism  the  back-door  to  Popery."  I 
have  not  been  able  to  obtain  these  two ;  but  as  they  are 
chiefly  composed  of  extracts  from  Dr.  Edwards'  Preacher, 
their  character  is  no  secret ;  and  it  loses  nothing  of  its  point 
in  the  hands  ofWarne,  if  I  may  judge  from  his  pamphlet  en- 
titled, "  The  dreadful  Degeneracy  of  the  Clergy,  the  means 
to  promote  Irreligion,  Atheism,  and  Popery,"  which  he  drew 
from  Edwards  and  dedicated  to  Whitefield. 

Warne  was  thus  the  first  dissenter  who  wrote  on  White- 
field's  behalf.  The  compliment  also  was  well  timed,  and  well 
judged  ;  for  it  sustained  him  against  the  bishop,  by  the  testi- 
mony of  the  fathers  and  martyrs  of  the  church,  and  brought 
the  puritans  under  his  notice.  "VVarne  tells  W  hitefield,  to  "  go 
on  in  the  name  of  the  Lord  ;"  for  the  truths  submitted  him 
(with  which  his  own  preaching  is  delicately  identified)  "  are  to 
be  found  sparkling  up  and  down  in  the  labours  of  our  gedly 
reformers  and  holy  martyrs,  like  so  many  diamonds  of  the 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         161 

greatest  lustre,  and  are  the  bases  of  all  sound  religion  both  in 
heart  and  life." 

It  was  well  for  Whitefield  that  he  had  studied  Warne's  spe- 
cimens of  the  reformers  and  puritans,  before  he  reached  New 
England:  they  enabled  him  to  adjust  his  phraseology  in  the 
pulpit  to  "  the  form  of  sound  words"  in  the  States  ;  and  pre- 
pared him  to  retract  and  explain  expressions  in  his  printed 
sermons,  which  the  descendants  of  the  puritans  were  not  slow, 
nor  ceremonious,  nor  wrong,  in  condemning. 

Another  thing  which  helped  to  clear  and  simplify  his  own 
views  of  the  gospel,  during  the  voyage,  was,  the  discussion 
he  carried  on  with  a  quaker,  who  preached  occasionally  in 
the  cabin,  and  always  against  the  outward  Christ.  His  doc- 
trine of  the  inward  Christ,  and  his  confounding  of  the  inward 
light  with  the  Spirit,  led  Whitefield  to  confess  and  contend, 
that  "  the  outward  righteousness  of  Christ  imputed  to  us,  is 
the  sole  fountain  and  cause  of  all  the  inward  communications 
received  from  the  Spirit." 

In  other  respects,  his  voyage  had  not  much  interest.  It 
was,  however,  so  useful  to  himself,  that  he  said  on  reviewing 
the  knowledge  he  had  acquired  during  it,  "  I  would  not  but 
have  come  this  voyage  for  a  thousand  worlds."  One  of  the 
fruits  of  it  was,  his  "  Letter  to  the  Religious  Societies  in 
England  and  Wales,  lately  set  on  foot ; "  a  pamphlet  which  had 
no  ordinary  influence  upon  their  faith  and  patience.  It  is 
founded  upon  Heb.  x.  23,  which  he  translates  thus  :  "  Having 
been  washed  in  the  body  with  pure  water,  let  us  hold  fast  the 
mutual  and  uniform  profession  of  the  hope,  without  wavering; 
for  He  is  faithful  that  hath  promised." 

The  letter  bears  date  September  22 ;  and  presents  a  re- 
markable contrast  to  his  own  hopes  on  that  day,  as  these 
appear  in  his  diary  : — not  that  he  himself  was  in  despair  ;  but 
he  felt,  he  says,  "something  of  that  which  Adam  felt  when  he 
was  turned  out  of  paradise,  ate  but  little,  and  went  mourning 
all  the  day  long."  Accordingly,  he  does  not  mention  the 
letter,  nor  intimate  that  he  had  done  any  thing  but  "  weep 
bitterly." 

This  arose  from  the  overwhelming  discoveries  he  had  made 
of  the  plagues  of  his  own  heart,  and  of  the  depths  of  Satan. 
It  happily  reminded  him,  however,  of  Luther's  experience, — 
"  that  he  never  undertook  any  fresh  work,  but  he  was  visited 
either  with  a  fit  of  sickness,  or  with  some  strong  temptation." 
"  May  I  follow  him,"  he  says,  "  as  he   did  Christ."     Thus 

14* 


1G2  WIIITEFIELD'S      LIFE      AND      TIMES. 

humbled,  improved,  and  encouraged,  to  persevere  in  his  work, 
he  arrived  at  Philadelphia*  after  a  passage  of  nine  weeks; 
and  alter  having  had,  he  says,  "  a  legion  of  devils  cast  out  of 
his  heart  by  the  power  of  Christ." 

His  welcome  at  Philadelphia  was  cordial.  Both  ministers 
and  laymen  of  all  denominations  visited  him,  and  invited  him 
to  preach.  He  was  especially  pleased  to  find  that  they  pre- 
ferred sermons  when  "  not  delivered  within  the  church  walls." 
It  was  well  they  did  ;  for  his  fame  had  reached  the  city  before 
he  arrived,  and  thus  collected  crowds  which  no  church  could 
contain.  "  The  court-steps  "  became  his  pulpit ;  and  neither 
he  nor  the  people  wearied,  although  the  cold  winds  of  No- 
vember blew  upon  them  night  after  night. 

Old  Mr.  Tennent,  of  Neshaminy,  (the  father  of  the  Ten- 
nents,)  came  to  visit  and  hear  him  ;  and  thus  paved  his  way 
to  New  Brunswick,  where  he  became  acquainted  with  Gil- 
bert, the  oldest  son  of  the  "  good  old  man,"  as  Whitefield 
always  called  him.  Gilbert  Tennent  and  George  White- 
field  were  just  the  men  to  meet  at  this  time.  Both  were 
popular,  and  both  had  been  persecuted.  Accordingly,  they 
understood  and  appreciated  each  other  at  once.  Tennent 
readily  entered  into  Whitefield's  views  ;  and  W  hitefield,  no- 
bly despising  all  the  abominable  imputations  which  the  world 
cast  upon  Tennent,  identified  himself  with  him  in  America  ; 
and  told  England  that  he  was  "a  son  of  thunder,  whose  preach- 
ing must  either  convert  or  enrage  hypocrites."     Journals. 

This  was  no  ordinary  magnanimity  ;  for,  at  the  time,  Ten- 
nent's  name  was  loaded  with  reproach,  and  the  grossest  im- 
moralities were  attributed  to  him.  American  Biog.  Diet. 
He  outlived  them  all,  however,  and  closed  a  life  of  signal 
usefulness  by  a  death  of  signal  peace. 

How  much  Whitefield  was  both  struck  and  humbled  by  his 
preaching,  will  be  seen  from  the  following  record  : — "  Never 
before  heard  I  such  a  searching  sermon.  He  went  to  the  bot- 
tom indeed,  and  did  not  daub  with  untempcred  mortar.  He 
I  convinced  me  more  and  more,  that  we  can  preach  the  gospel 
'  of  Christ  no  further  than  we  have  experienced  the  power  of  it 
in  our  hearts.  I  found  what  a  babe  and  novice  I  was  in  the 
things  of  God."     Diary. 

After  preaching  together  in  various  places  they  went  to 
Neshaminy,  to  visit  the  good  old  patriarch  ;  and  to  see  the 
log-house,  (so  like  "  the  schools  of  the  ancient  prophets  ! ") 
where  Mr.  Tennent  had,  by  himself,  trained  for  the  ministry, 


wiiitefield's   life    and   times.         1G3 

Rowland,  Campbell,  Lawrence,  Bcatty,  Robinson,  and  Samuel 
Blair,  besides  his  four  sons.  Whitefield  was  delighted  with 
the  scene,  and  predicted  the  result  of  the  patriarch's  enter- 
prise :  "The  devil  will  certainly  rage  against  the  work,  but  I 
am  persuaded  it  will  not  come  to  naught."  It  did  not.  It 
became  Princetown  College. 

At  New-York,  Whitefield  was  refused  the  use  of  both  the 
church  and  the  court-house.  The  commissary  of  the  bishop, 
he  says,  was  "  full  of  anger  and  resentment,  and  denied  me 
the  use  of  his  pulpit,  before  I  asked  for  it !  He  said,  they  did 
not  want  my  assistance.  I  replied,  If  they  preach  the  gospel, 
I  wish  them  good  luck  :  I  will  preach  in  the  fields ;  for  all 
places  are  alike  to  me."  So  they  were  :  for,  in  the  afternoon, 
he  preached  in  the  fields,  and,  in  the  evening,  in  Mr.  (after- 
wards Dr.)  Pemberton's  meeting-house.  (Dr.  Pemberton 
published  a  funeral  sermon  on  the  death  of  Whitefield.  He 
was  then  at  Boston,  having  been  dismissed  from  New-York, 
by  a  cabal  of  ignorance  and  bigotry.) 

Whitefield  did  not  excite  much  public  attention  in  New- 
York,  at  this  time,  nor,  indeed,  on  any  subsequent  visit,  until 
17G4,  when  he  preached  there  seven  weeks,  with  great  accept- 
ance and  success.  Still,  even  his  first  labours  were  not  in 
vain.  Pemberton  wrote  to  him  at  Philadelphia,  that  "many 
were  deeply  affected  ;  and  some  who  had  been  loose  and 
profligate,  were  ashamed,  and  set  upon  thorough  reformation." 
The  printers  also,  at  both  places,  applied  to  him  for  sermons 
to  publish  ;  assuring  him,  that  hundreds  had  called  for  them, 
and  that  thousands  would  purchase  them.  This  request  he 
complied  with,  and  "gave  out"  (I  use  his  own  expression, 
without  knowing  its  meaning)  "  two  extempore  discourses  to 
be  published." 

His  own  opinions  of  this  tour,  of  which  New- York  and 
Philadelphia  were  the  centres,  are  expressed  in  stronger  lan- 
guage than  I  can  illustrate  from  my  documents,  ample  as 
they  are.  "  It  is  unknown,"  he  says,  "  what  deep  impres- 
sions have  been  wrought  upon  the  hearts  of  hundreds.  Many 
poor  sinners  have,  I  trust,  been  called  home,  and  great  num- 
bers are  under  strong  convictions.  An  opposer  told  me,  I 
had  unhinged  many  good  sort  of  people.     I  believe  it." 

One  proof  of  the  impression  he  made,  was  given  in  the 
presents  he  received  for  his  orphan  family.  "  They  sent  me 
butter,  sugar,  chocolate,  pickles,  cheese,  and  flour,  for  my 
orphans  :   and,  indeed,  I  could  almost  say,  they  would  pluck 


164      whitefield's    life    and    times. 

out  their  own  eyes  and  give  me.  Oh  that  what  God  says  of 
the  church  of  Philadelphia,  may  now  be  fulfilled  in  the  city 
called  after  her  name — '/  know  thy  toorksS  " 

This  readiness  to  aid  him  in  his  favourite  enterprise,  deter- 
mined him  to  go  to  Georgia  by  land,  that  he  might  collect  by 
the  way.  Several  entered  heartily  into  this  plan,  and  pur- 
chased a  sloop  (which  he  called  the  Savannah)  to  send  on  the 
family  by  sea. 

On  leaving  Philadelphia,  with  Seward,  nearly  twenty  gen- 
tlemen, on  horseback,  accompanied  him  ;  and,  before  they 
reached  Chester,  two  hundred  more  had  come  to  meet  him. 
On  his  arrival,  the  judges  sent  him  word,  that  they  would  defer 
their  meeting  until  his  sermon  was  over  ;  and  the  clergyman, 
finding  the  church  would  be  too  small,  (for  nearly  a  thousand 
people  had  come  from  Philadelphia,)  prepared  a  platform  for 
him,  from  which  he  addressed  an  immense  assembly. 

Amongst  other  places  which  he  visited  on  this  tour,  was 
Whitely  Creek,  where  he  became  acquainted  with  William 
Tennent ;  and  met  with  what  hardly  gratified  him  less,  a 
Welsh  family,  who  had  heard  him  at  Cardiff  and  Kingswood, 
before  they  emigrated.  In  vain  any  one  else  begged  of  him 
to  be  their  guest ;  he  Mould  go  nowhere  but  to  the  Howels. 
The  name  accounts  for  their  fascination  ;  it  was  associated 
with  Wales,  Bristol,  and  Howel  Harris. 

Whitefield  became  much  attached  to  William  Tennent. 
It  was  from  him  he  received  the  well-known  reproof  against 
impatience  for  heaven.  They  were  dining  with  Governor 
Livingston  one  day,  and  Whitefield,  being  much  exhausted 
by  severe  labour,  expressed  a  hope  that  he  should  soon  enter 
into  his  rest.  He  appealed  also  to  Tennent,  if  that  was  not 
his  comfort  ?  Tennent  replied,  "  What  do  you  think  I  should 
say,  if  I  were  to  send  my  man  Tom  into  the  field  to  plough, 
and  at  noon  should  find  him  lounging  under  a  tree,  complain- 
ing of  the  heat,  and  begging  to  be  discharged  from  his  hard 
service  ?  What  should  I  say  ?  Why,  that  he  was  an  idle, 
lazy  fellow,  and  that  his  business  was  to  do  the  work  I  had 
appointed  him."  This  would  have  been  a  powerful  rebuke 
from  any  one.  It  was  peculiar  from  William  Tennent.  In 
early  life  he  had  lain  in  a  trance,  which  was  so  like  death,  that 
his  funeral  was  prepared,  and  with  difficulty  prevented.  The 
physician,  having  heard  that  the  flesh  under  the  arm  had 
quivered  when  the  body  was  laid  out,  insisted  upon  a  delay  of 
three  days.     At  the  close  of  that  time,  no  change  had  taken 


WHITEFI  ELD'S      LIFE     AND      TIMES.  1G5 

place;  and  therefore,  the  family  resolved  to  inter  the  corpse. 
But  still,  the  physician  hesitated.  He  begged  for  another 
hour;  then  for  half  an  hour  ;  then  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  : 
and  just  as  this  last  period  was  expiring,  whilst  he  was 
moistening  the  swollen  tongue,  the  eyes  opened,  and  a  groan 
was  uttered.  He  persevered  ;  and  in  the  course  of  a  few 
hours,  Tcnnent  revived  !  but  with  the  loss  of  all  his  former 
ideas.  His  mind  was  a  blank  for  nearly  a  year,  in  reference 
to  all  his  past  life.  He  had,  however,  a  vivid  impression  of 
having  been  in  heaven,  during  his  trance;  and,  for  three 
years  after,  the  sounds  he  seemed  to  have  heard  in  gloiy 
were  never  out  of  his  ears.  Indeed,  all  through  his  future 
life,  he  was  a  heavenly-minded  Christian.  This  was  the 
man  who  reproved  Whitefield ;  and  the  effect  was  increased 
by  the  fact,  that  Tennent  was  a  champion  for  civil  and  reli- 
gious liberty,  as  well  as  a  conscious  heir  of  glory.  American 
Biog.  Diet. 

In  the  course  of  this  tour  towards  Georgia,  Whitefield  had 
to  endure  considerable  privations  and  peril  in  riding  through 
the  woods.  On  one  occasion,  he  heard  the  wolves  "  howl- 
ing like  a  kennel  of  hounds,"  near  to  the  road.  On  another, 
he  had  a  narrow  escape  in  trying  to  cross  the  PotomP.c  in  a 
storm.  He  had  also  to  swim  his  horse  once,  owing  to  the 
floods  ;  for  it  was  now  the  depth  of  winter.  One  night  Sew- 
ard and  he  lost  themselves  in  the  woods  of  South  Carolina, 
and  were  much  alarmed  at  seeing  groups  of  negroes  dancing 
around  great  fires.  No  real  injury,  however,  was  sustained 
from  the  journey,  notwithstanding  all  its  hardships. 

He  arrived  at  Charleston  in  good  health  and  high  spirits. 
"  Here,"  says  Gillies,  "  he  soon  found  that,  by  field  preaching, 
he  had  lost  his  old  friend  the  commissary,  who  once  promis- 
ed to  defend  him  with  life  and  fortune."  The  commissary 
had  shame  enough  to  keep  out  of  the  way,  whilst  Whitefield 
staid  ;  and  the  curate  said,  he  could  not  admit  him  into  the 
pulpit  whilst  Garden  was  absent.  The  people,  however,  had 
not  forgotten  him.  All  the  town  were  clamorous  for  him  to 
preach  somewhere.  Accordingly,  he  accepted  invitations  to 
both  the  French  church  and  the  independent  chapel. 

The  congregations  were  large  and  polite  ;  but  presented 
"  an  affected  finery  and  gaiety  of  dress  and  deportment, 
which,"  he  says,  *'  I  question  if  the  court-end  of  London 
could  exceed."  Before  he  left,  however,  there  was  what  he 
calls  "a  glorious  alteration  in  the  audience."     Many  wept ; 


166         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

and  the  light  and  airy  had  a  visible  concern  in  their  faces. 
Such  was  their  urgency  to  hear  more,  that  they  won  him  back 
from  the  boat,  after  he  had  gone  to  the  shore  to  sail  for  Geor- 
gia, and  prevailed  on  him  to  preach  again. 

Here  he  formed  an  intimate  friendship  with  the  indepen- 
dent minister,  Josiah  Smith  ;  the  first  native  of  South  Caro- 
lina, who  received  a  literary  degree.  Miller's  Retrospect. 
Smith  published  a  remarkable  sermon  soon  after,  entitled, 
"  The  Character  and  Preaching  of  White-field,  impartially 
represented  and  supported.11  Strange  as  this  title  is,  both  Dr. 
Colman  and  Mr.  Cooper  of  Boston  united  in  writing  a  recom- 
mendatory preface  to  it.  And  no  wonder  ;  it  was  worthy  of 
their  sanction,  I  do  not  know  of  any  thing  written  since, 
which  defines  and  defends  the  character  of  Whitefield  better. 
The  text  is,  Job  xxxii.  17,  "I  said,  I  will  answer  also  my 
part,  I  also  will  show  mine  opinion."  He  begins  by  saying, 
"  My  design  from  this  text  is,  to  show  my  impartial  opinion 
of  that  son  of  thunder,  who  lately  graced  and  warmed  this 
desk  ;  and  would  have  been  an  ornament,  I  think,  to  the  best 
pulpit  in  the  province."  (This  was  a  hit  as  well  as  a  hint  to 
Commissary  Garden.)  The  plan  of  the  sermon  is  stated 
thus  :  "The  scheme,  I  propose,  is,  First,  To  give  my  opinion 
of  the  doctrines  he  insisted  on,  and  so  well  established.  Sec- 
ond, To  speak  something  of  the  manner  of  his  preaching. 
Third,  To  offer  my  sentiments  upon  his  personal  character. 
Lastly,  To  give  you  my  thoughts,  what  Providence  seems  to 
have  in  its  view,  in  raising  up  men  of  this  stamp  in  our  day; 
almost  every  where  spoken  against,  yet  crowded  after  and 
justly  admired." 

Smith's  defence  of  Whitefield's  doctrine  is  masterly.  His 
account  of  his  manner  is  the  best  I  have  ever  met  with.  "He 
is  certainly  a  finished  preacher.  A  noble  negligence  ran 
through  his  style.  The  passion  and  flame  of  his  expressions 
will,  1  trust,  be  long  felt  by  many.  My  pen  cannot  describe 
his  action  and  gestures,  in  all  their  strength  and  decencies. 

"  He  appeared  to  me,  in  all  his  discourses,  very  deeply 
affected  and  impressed  in  his  own  heart.  How  did  that  burn 
and  boil  within  him,  when  he  spake  of  the  things  he  had  made 
'  touching  the  King  ! '  How  was  his  tongue  like  the  pen  of  a 
ready  writer,  touched  as  with  a  coal  from  the  altar !  With 
what  a  flow  of  words — what  a  ready  profusion  of  language, 
did  he  speak  to  us  upon  the  great  concerns  of  our  souls  !  In 
what  a  flaming  light  did  he  set  our  eternity  before  us  !    How 


WHITEFIELD'S     LIFE     AND     TIMES.  107 

earnestly  he  pressed  Christ  upon  us  !  How  did  he  move  our 
passions  with  the  constraining  love  of  such  a  Redeemer  1  The 
awe — the  silence — the  attention  which  sat  upon  the  face  of 
the  great  audience,  was  an  argument  how  he  could  reign  over 
all  their  powers.  Many  thought  he  spake  as  never  man  spake 
before  him.  So  charmed  were  the  people  with  his  manner  of 
address,  that  they  shut  up  their  shops,  forgot  their  secular 
business,  and  laid  aside  their  schemes  for  the  world  ;  and  the 
oftener  he  preached,  the  keener  edge  he  seemed  to  put  upon 
their  desires  to  hear  him  again. 

"How  awfully — with  what  thunder  and  sound — did  he  dis- 
charge the  artillery  of  heaven  upon  us !  And  yet,  how  could 
he  soften  and  melt  even  a  soldier  of  Ulysses,  with  the 
mercy  of  God !  How  close,  strong,  and  pungent  were  his  ap- 
plication to  the  conscience  ;  mingling  light  and  heat ;  point- 
ing the  arrows  of  the  Almighty  at  the  hearts  of  sinners,  while 
he  poured  in  the  balm  upon  the  wounds  of  the  contrite,  and 
made  broken  bones  rejoice.'  Eternal  themes,  the  tremendous 
solemnities  of  our  religion,  were  all  alive  upon  his  tongue ! 
So,  methinks,  (if  you  will  forgive  the  figure,)  St.  Paul  would 
look  and  speak  in  a  pulpit.  In  some  such  manner,  I  am 
tempted  to  conceive  of  a  seraph,  were  he  sent  down  to  preach 
among  us,  and  to  tell  us  what  things  he  had  seen  and  heard 
above. 

"  How  bold  and  courageous  did  he  look  !  He  was  no  flat- 
terer ;  would  not  suffer  men  to  settle  on  their  lees  ;  did  not 
prophesy  smooth  things,  nor  sew  pillows.  He  taught  the 
way  of  God  in  truth,  and  regarded  not  the  person  of  men. 
He  struck  at  the  politest  and  most  modish  of  our  vices  and 
at  the  most  fashionable  entertainments,  regardless  of  every 
one's  presence,  but  His  in  whose  name  he  spake  with  this 
authority.  And  I  dare  warrant,  if  none  should  go  to  these 
diversions,  until  they  have  answered  the  solemn  questions  he 
put  to  their  consciences,  our  theatre  would  soon  sink  and  per- 
ish.    I  freely  own  he  has  taken  my  heart !  " 

In  a  note  to  this  sermon,  Smith  states  that  £600  were  con- 
tributed in  Charleston  to  the  orphan-house,  when  Whitefield 
returned. 

He  left  Charleston  in  an  open  canoe,  with  five  negro  row- 
ers, and  reached  Savannah  in  safety.  "  In  their  way,"  says 
Gillies,  "  they  lay,  for  the  first  time,  in  the  woods,  upon  the 
ground,  near  a  large  fire,  which  keeps  off  the  wild  beasts  :  " 
"  An  emblem,"  says  Whitefield,  "  of  the  divine  love  and  pre- 


169        whitefield's   life   and  times. 

sencc  keeping  off  evils  and  corruptions  from  the  soul."  He 
found  Georgia  much  deserted  and  depressed  :  but  was  much 
pleased  with  the  tract  of  land,  which  Habersham  had  selected 
as  the  site  of  the  orphan-house.  It  was  about  ten  miles  dis- 
tant from  Savannah,  and  included  five  hundred  acres.  On 
the  34th  of  .January,  1740,  he  took  formal  "  possession  of  his 
lot,  and  called  it  Bethesda,  the  House  of  Mercy."  Next 
week,  he  laid  out  the  ground-plan  of  the  building  ;  and  em- 
ployed many  workmen,  who  would  otherwise  have  left  the 
colony.  In  the  meantime,  he  hired  a  large  house,  and  took  in 
twenty-four  orphans.  Thus  he  incurred  at  once  the  heavy 
responsibility  of  a  large  family  and  a  larger  institution  ;  "  en- 
couraged," he  says,  "  by  the  example  of  Professor  Franck." 
Many  years  after,  on  reverting  to  this  undertaking,  he  said, 
"I  forgot  to  recollect,  that  Professor  Franck  built  in  Glaucha, 
in  a  populous  country,  and  that  I  was  building  at  the  very  tail 
of  the  world,  where  I  could  expect  the  least  supply,  and  which 
the  badness  of  the  constitution  (of  the  colony)  which  I  expect- 
ed every  day  to  be  altered,  rendered  it  by  far  the  most  expen- 
sive part  of  all  his  Majesty's  dominions.  But  had  I  received 
more  and  ventured  less,  I  should  have  suffered  less,  and 
others  more."  It  was  well  for  the  colony,  however,  and  bet- 
ter for  the  world,  that  he  did  "forget  to  recollect"  all  this. 
By  committing  himself  upon  Bethesda,  he  was  compelled, 
like  Paul  when  he  espoused  the  cause  of  the  poor  saints  in 
Jerusalem,  to  visit  the  churches  everywhere. 

Having  laid  the  foundation  of  the  orphan-house,  he  left  Sa- 
vannah, to  provide  as  he  could  for  forty  orphans,  and  about 
sixty  servants  and  workmen  ;  for  such  was  the  number  de- 
pendent on  him.  He,  however,  had  no  fears  nor  misgivings 
of  heart.  "  Near  a  hundred  mouths,"  he  writes  at  the  time, 
"are  daily  to  be  supplied  with  food;  the  expense  is  great; 
but  our  great  and  good  God  will,  I  am  persuaded,  enable  me 
to  defray  it.  As  yet,  I  am  kept  from  the  least  doubting. 
The  more  my  family  increases,  the  more  enlargement  and 
comfort  I  feel.  Set  thy  almighty  fiat  to  it,  O  gracious  Fa- 
ther, and  for  thine  own  name's  sake  convince  us  more  and 
more,  that  thou  never  wilt  forsake  those  who  put  their  trust 
in  thee."  On  reviewing  this  passage  fifteen  years  after,  he 
wrote,  "Hitherto,  blessed  be  God,  I  have  not  been  disappoint- 
ed of  my  hope."     Rev.  Journ. 

Philadelphia  was  the  first  place  where  he  pleaded  the  cause 
of  the  orphan-house,  after  having  commenced  the  work  :  and 


whitefield's  life  and   times.  169 

he  succeeded,  although  not  in  the  churches.  The  commis- 
sary told  him,  that  he  would  lend  the  church  no  more  to  him. 
"  The  fields  are  open,''''  was  his  laconic  answer ;  and  eight 
thousand  people  replied  to  his  call  that  night,  and  ten  thou- 
sand next  day.  On  the  Sabbath  morning  he  collected  £110 
for  his  "  poor  orphans  ;  "  and  then  went  to  church,  where  the 
commissary  preached  a  sermon  on  justification  by  works. 
Whitefield  had  been  recognized  at  church  ;  and,  accordingly, 
was  expected  to  answer  the  sermon  in  the  evening.  He  did, 
and  collected  £80  more  for  Bcthesda. 

Money  was,  however,  the  least  part  of  his  success.  Many 
souls  were  both  awakened  and  won.  Negroes  came  to  him, 
asking,  "  Have  I  a  soul  ?  "  Societies  for  prayer  and  mutual 
edification  were  set  up  in  various  parts  of  the  city.  Scoffers 
were  silent,  or  only  muttered  their  curses  over  the  punch- 
bowl in  taverns,  "because,"  says  he,  "I  did  not  preach  up 
more  morality !  "  Seward  relates  an  anecdote  in  his  journal, 
at  this  time,  which  deserves  to  be  extracted.  "A  drinking 
club,  whereof  a  clergyman  was  a  member,  had  a  negro  boy 
attending  them,  who  used  to  mimic  people  for  their  diversion. 
The  gentleman  had  him  mimic  our  brother  Whitefield  ;  which 
he  was  very  unwilling  to  do  (Whitefield  had  just  published 
an  appeal  on  behalf  of  the  negroes) ;  but  they  insisting  upon 
it,  he  stood  up  and  said, '  I  speak  the  truth  in  Christ;  I  lie  not; 
unless  you  repent,  you  will  all  be  damned.'  This  unexpect- 
ed speech  broke  up  the  club,  which  has  never  met  since." 
Seward's  Journal. 

At  this  time  Whitefield  and  Seward  became  acquainted 
with  Anthony  Benezett,  the  philanthropist.  He  was  a  qua- 
ker  :  but  he  confessed  to  them  with  tears,  that  the  society,  in 
general,  were  in  a  slate  of  carnal  security.  This  led  White- 
field  to  "  be  very  plain  and  powerful "  in  exposing  their 
errors.  The  consequence  was,  that  many  of  them  forsook 
him.  Benezett  evidently  caught  something  of  Whitefield's 
spirit,  if  I  may  judge  from  his  subsequent  history.  It  was  at 
this  amiable  philanthropist's  funeral,  when  hundreds  of  weep- 
ing negroes  stood  round,  that  an  American  officer  said,  "I 
would  rather  be  Anthony  Benezett  in  that  coffin,  than  George 
Washington  with  all  his  fame."     Amer.  Biogr. 

The  simplicity  of  Seward,  at  this  time  is  amusing.  He 
was  not  only  Whitefield's  Boswell,  but  also  his  trumpeter. 
And  he  makes  no  secret  of  his  being  the  writer  of  the  para- 
graphs and  advertisements  which  then  appeared  in  the  news- 
15 


170        whitefield's    life    and    times. 

papers.  One  of  them,  which  he  sent  from  Philadelphia  to  the 
New- York  paper,  is  worth  quoting,  for  the  facts  it  contains. 
"We  hear  from  Philadelphia,  that  since  Mr.  Whitefield's 
preaching  there,  the  dancing-school  and  concert-room  have 
been  shut  up,  as  inconsistent  with  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel ; 
at  which  some  gentlemen  were  so  enraged,  that  they  broke 
open  the  door.  It  is  most  extraordinary  that  such  devilish 
diversions  should  be  supported  in  that  city,  and  by  some  of 
that  very  sect,  whose  first  principles  are  an  utter  detestation 
of  them  ;  as  appears  from  William  Penn's  *  No  Cross,  no 
Crown  ; '  in  which  he  says,  'Every  step  in  a  dance  is  a  step 
to  hell.'" 

It  was  Seward  himself  who  had  taken  away  the  keys  of  the 
assembly  rooms,  that  all  the  people  might  come  to  hear 
Whitefield.  He  obtained  the  keys  from  the  keeper,  on  pro- 
mising to  meet  all  consequences.  Accordingly,  he  was 
threatened  with  a  caning,  and  got  well  abused  ;  which  quite 
delighted  him.  It  ought,  however,  to  be  known,  that  Seward 
was  hurried  away  into  rash  zeal  on  this  occasion,  by  finding 
a  son  of  Penn  one  of  the  proprietors  of  the  assembly  house. 
This  would  have  provoked  even  an  English  quaker,  as  well 
as  a  methodist.  Journal,  p.  6.  He  had,  however,  to  provide 
for  the  dancing  master's  family.  He  did  also  a  better  thing 
at  this  time  :  "  Agreed  with  Mr.  Allen  for  five  thousand  acres 
of  land,  on  the  forks  of  the  Delaware  ;  the  conveyance  to  be 
made  to  Mr.  Whitefield,  and  after  that  assigned  to  me  as 
security  for  my  money,  £2,200."  This  purchase  was  chiefly 
made  for  the  benevolent  design  of  a  negro  school,  similar 
to  the  orphan-house.  Seward,  however,  did  not  live  to  carry 
his  design  into  effect.  He  died  before  Whitefield  returned  to 
England. 

After  visiting  various  places,  aud  producing  every  where  a 
great  impression,  Whitefield  arrived  at  New- York,  where  he 
was  met  by  William  Tennent.  He  had,  however,  overtaxed 
his  strength  by  labour,  and  lost  his  appetite.  He  did  not, 
therefore,  create  a  great  sensation  there  at  this  time  ;  at  least, 
not  equal  to  that  in  other  places.  His  audiences,  however, 
were  never  under  seven  or  eight  thousand  persons,  and  he 
obtained  £300  for  Bethesda. 

It  is  very  affecting  to  read  his  diary  at  this  time  :  he  was 
so  unwilling  to  give  way  to  his  sufferings,  and  so  unable  to  do 
justice  to  his  burning  zeal.  He  made  a  desperate  effort  at 
Long-Island  to  reach  his  usual  pitch  ;  but  almost  sunk  under 


whitefield's   life  and   times.  171 

it,  as  he  turned  to  the  ministers,  exclaiming,    "Oh  that  we 
were  all  a  flame  of  fire!  ''' 

On  his  way  to  Philadelphia  again,  he  revived  ;  having  had 
the  assistance  and  society  of  the  Tennents,  and  some  refresh- 
ing sleep,  which  he  says,  "  my  body  much  wanted."  This 
rally  was  opportune  ;  for  the  whole  city  was  moved  at  his 
coming.  He,  too,  was  moved  with  indignation,  on  hearing 
that  antinomianism  had  been  charged  against  the  tendency  of 
his  doctrine.  Accordingly,  he  "  cleared  himself  from  the 
aspersion  with  great  spirit,"  in  his  first  sermon.  "  /  abhor 
the  thoughts  of  it,"  he  said  ;  "  and  whosoever  entertains  the 
doctrines  of  free  grace  in  an  honest  heart,  will  find  them  cause 
him  to  be  fruitful  in  every  good  word  and  work."  In  this 
loathing  abhorrence  of  antinomianism,  Rowland  Hill  always 
appeared  to  me  to  inherit  the  mantle  and  spirit  of  Whitefield, 
and  to  remember  that  he  inherited  them.  His  well-known 
sarcasm,  "  It  is  a  nasty  religion,"  did  more  execution  upon 
that  monster  of  the  mire,  than  any  weapon  I  have  seen  wield- 
ed. The  look  and  the  tone,  in  which  this  was  uttered,  justi- 
fied as  they  were  by  his  own  holy  character,  were  irresistible. 
The  hit  struck  as  wit,  and  stuck  as  wisdom.  Whitefield  hav- 
ing repelled  the  charge  of  antinomianism  in  Philadelphia,  had 
next  to  justify  his  zeal.  That  was  attacked  on  the  following 
Sabbath  in  church,  whilst  he  himself  was  present.  The  cler- 
gyman took  for  his  text  "I  bear  them  record,  they  have  a 
zeal  for  God,  but  not  according  to  knowledge."  It  was  an 
unfortunate  selection  for  the  accuser;  and  Whitefield  turned 
the  context  upon  him  with  tremendous  point  and  power,  in  the 
evening,  before  an  audience  of  twenty  thousand.  "  I  could 
have  wished  he  had  considered  the  next  words — '  for  they 
being  ignorant  of  God's  righteousness,  and  going  about  to 
establish  their  own  righteousness,  have  not  submitted  them- 
selves to  the  righteousness  of  God.  For  Christ  is  the  end  of 
the  law  for  righteousness  to  every  one  that  believeth,' "  Rom. 
x.  3,  4.  That  night  fifty  negroes,  besides  many  other  con- 
verts, came  to  tell  him  "what  God  had  done  for  their  souls." 

Next  day  he  set  out  for  Derby,  and  found,  when  he  came  to 
the  ferry,  that  "  people  had  been  crossing  over,  as  fast  as  two 
boats  could  carry  them,  ever  since  three  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing." Many  of  them  followed  him  to  Chester  and  Welling- 
ton also,  and  almost  wore  him  out  by  their  claims  upon  his 
time  and  strength.  They  were  not,  however,  inconsiderate 
of  his  object :  they  gave  him  much,  and  promised  him  more, 
cox  his  orphans. 


172       whitefield's    life    and    times. 

Whilst  in  "  Chester  county,"  a  new  feature  was  added  to 
the  effects  of  his  ministry.  It  had  often  been  accompanied 
by  the  deep  silence  of  awe,  and  the  silent  tears  of  penitence, 
both  in  England  and  America  ;  but  it  never  produced  parox- 
ysms of  crying  or  conviction.  Something  of  this  kind  cer- 
tainlv  happened  at  Bristol ;  for  Wesley  appeals  with  triumph 
to  "  outward  signs,"  similar  to  those  produced  there  by  him- 
self, although  Whitefield  says  nothing  about  them  in  his  jour- 
nals; "which," says  Southey,  "assuredly he  would  have  done, 
had  he  been  convinced,  with  "W  esley,  that  these  fits  were  the 
immediate  work  of  God."  The  only  thing  of  the  kind,  how- 
ever, which  Whitefield  mentions  before  the  scenes  at  Notting- 
ham and  Fog's  Manor,  occurred  at  Philadelphia,  whilst  he 
was  "  settling  "  one  of  his  societies,  but  not  preaching.  It 
was  a  female  society,  composed  of  many  who  had  just  been 
awakened  by  his  preaching.  When,  therefore,  he  met  them, 
and  proceeded  to  organize  and  exhort  them,  their  unexpected 
number  and  new  position  overcame  them.  "Their  cries 
might  be  heard  at  a  great  distance."  Still  this  was  all.  And 
it  took  only  a  devotional  form  :  for  he  adds,  "When  I  had 
done  prayer,  I  thought  proper — to  leave  them  at  their  devo- 
tions." But  this  was  far  exceeded  at  Nottingham.  "I  had 
not  spoke  long,  when  I  perceived  numbers  melting.  As  I 
proceeded,  the  influence  increased,  till  at  last,  both  in  the 
morning  and  afternoon,  thousands  cried  out  so  that  they  al- 
most drowned  my  voice.  Oh  what  strong  cryings  and  tears 
were  shed  and  poured  forth  after  the  dear  Lord  Jesus!  Some 
fainted  ;  and,  when  they  got  a  little  strength,  would  hear  and 
faint  again.  Others  cried  out  in  a  manner  almost  as  if  they 
were  in  the  sharpest  agonies  of  death.  And  after  I  had  finish- 
ed my  last  discourse,  I  myself  was  so  overpowered  with  a 
sense  of  God's  love — that  it  almost  took  away  my  life." 

Next  day,  even  this  commotion  was  exceeded  at  Fog's 
Manor.  "  Look  where  I  would,  most  were  drowned  in  tears. 
The  word  was  sharper  than  a  two-edged  sword.  Their  bitter 
cries  and  tears  were  enough  to  pierce  the  hardest  heart.  Oh 
what  different  visages  were  then  to  be  seen !  Some  were 
struck  pale  as  death,  others  lying  on  the  ground,  others  wring- 
ing their  hands,  others  sinking  into  the  arms  of  their  friends, 
and  most  lifting  up  their  eyes  to  heaven,  and  crying  out  to 
God  for  mercy.  I  could  think  of  nothing,  when  I  looked  at 
them,  so  much  as  the  great  day  !     They  seemed  like  peisons 


whitefield's   life   and   times.         173 

awakened  by  the  last  trump,  and  coming  out  of  their  graves  to 
judgment !" 

Remarkable  as  all  this  is,  it  admits  of  some  explanation, 
although  Gillies  passed  it  over.  Now,  in  both  instances, 
Whitefield,  accompanied  by  Tennent  and  Blair,  rode  away 
from  the  scene,  to  the  distance  of  twenty  miles,  immediately 
after  these  sermons  and  sensations  :  a  self-evident  proof, 
that  they  apprehended  no  danger  from  the  paroxysms.  They 
rode,  too,  "singing  psalms  and  hymns  by  the  way."  Now, 
they  were  not  men  who  would  have  abandoned  the  con- 
science-struck, nor  sung  as  they  left  them,  had  there  been 
any  symptoms  of  bodily  or  mental  disease,  at  all  ominous. 
Both  W.  Tennent  and  Blair  were  emphatically  "  nursing 
lathers,"  and  Whitefield's  heart  was  made  of  tenderness.  It 
is  thus  evident,  that  he  did  not  consider  the  people  to  be  un- 
naturally nor  unduly  excited. 

Besides,  they  were  not,  altogether,  unprepared  for  the  ap- 
peals of  Whitefield.  Blair,  who  was  the  minister  at  Fog's 
Manor,  was,  himself,  a  powerful  preacher,  and  had  been  cre- 
ating a  strong  impression  throughout  the  county,  for  some 
time.  The  Tennents,  also,  had  co-operated  in  preparing  the 
way  of  the  Lord.  Whitefield  went  to  their  field  of  labour, 
because  "a  good  work  had  begun "  in  it  by  their  labours. 
He  had,  therefore,  "  good  ground  "  to  sow  in  :  and  he  felt 
this,  when  he  saw  twelve  thousand  people  assembled  "  in 
a  desert  place,"  where  he  did  not  expect  so  many  hun- 
dreds. "I  was  surprised,"  he  says,  "to  see  such  a  great 
multitude  gathered  together,  at  so  short  warning."  And  they 
themselves  must  have  been  surprised  at  their  own  numbers. 
These  facts  lessen  the  mystery  of  the  commotion,  without 
diminishing  its  real  interest.  It  was,  as  at  Pentecost,  men 
who  had  come  from  all  quarters  "  to  worship"  that  were 
cut  to  the  heart ;  and  many  of  whom  had  "  smote  on  their 
breasts,"  before  they  heard  the  Peter — of  England's  Pen- 
tecost. 

Whilst  Whitefield  was  thus  moving  about  from  place  to 
place,  he  wrote  the  following  letters,  in  order  to  obtain  a  wife  ; 
and  it  will  not  be  wondered  at  now,  that  they  defeated  their 
own  wise  purpose  by  their  unwise  form. 

15* 


174  whitefield's  life  and   times. 


TO   MR.    AND    MRS.    D. 

"On  board  the  Savannah,  bound  to  Philadelphia 
from  Georgia,  April  4ih,  1740. 

"  My  dear  Friends, 
"  I  find,  by  experience,  that  a  mistress  is  absolutely  neces- 
sary for  the  due  management  of  my  increasing  family,  and  to 
take  off  some  of  that  care  which  at  present  lies  upon  me. 
Besides,  I  shall,  in  all  probability,  at  my  next  return  from 
England,  bring  more  women  with  me  ;  and  I  find,  unless  they 
are  all  truly  gracious,  (or  indeed  if  they  are,)  without  a  su- 
perior, matters  cannot  be  carried  on  as  becometh  the  gospel 
of  Jesus  Christ.  It  hath  been  therefore  much  impressed  upon 
my  heart,  that  I  should  marry,  in  order  to  have  a  help  meet 
for  me  in  the  work  whereunto  our  dear  Lord  Jesus  hath  called 
me.  This  comes  (like  Abraham  s  servant  to  Hebekah's  re- 
lations,) to   know   whether  you  think  your   daughter,   Miss 

E ,  is  a  proper  person  to  engage  in  such  an  undertaking? 

If  so, — whether  you  will  be  pleased  to  give  me  leave  to  pro- 
pose marriage  unto  her?  You  need  not  be  afraid  of  sending 
me  a  refusal.  For,  I  bless  God,  if  I  know  any  thing  of  my 
own  heart,  I  am  free  from  that  foolish  passion,  which  the 
world  calls  love.  I  write  only  because  I  believe  it  is  the  will 
of  God  that  I  should  alter  my  state  ;  but  your  denial  will 
fully  convince  me  that  your  daughter  is  not  the  person  ap- 
pointed by  God  for  me.  He  knows  my  heart ;  I  would  not 
marry  but  for  him,  and  in  him,   for  ten  thousand   worlds. — 

But  I  have    sometimes   thought   Miss  E would   be  my 

help-mate ;  for  she  has  often  been  impressed  on  my  heart. 
I  should  think  myself  safer  in  your  family,  because  so  many 
of  you  love  the  Lord  Jesus,  and,  consequently,  would  be 
more  watchful  over  my  precious  and  immortal  soul.  After 
strong  crying  and  tears  at  the  throne  of  grace  for  direction, 
and  after  unspeakable  troubles  with  my  own  heart,  I  write 
this.  Be  pleased  to  spread  the  letter  before  the  Lord  ;  and 
if  you  think  this  motion  to  be  of  him,  be  pleased  to  deliver  the 
enclosed  to  your  daughter  : — if  not,  say  nothing,  only  let  me 
know  you  disapprove  of  it,  and  that  shail  satisfy,  dear  sir  and 
madam, 

Your  obliged  friend  and  servant  in  Christ, 

G.  W." 


whitefield's   life   and  times.  178 


TO    MISS    E . 

"  On  board  the  Savannah,  April  4  th,  1740. 
"Be  not  surprised  at  the  contents  of  this  : — the  letter  sent 
to  your  honoured  father  and  mother  will  acquaint  you  with  the 
reasons.     Do  you  think  you  could  undergo  the  fatigues  that 
must  necessarily  attend  being  joined  to  one,  who  is  every 
day  liable  to  be  called  out  to   suffer  for  the  sake   of  Jesus 
Christ?     Can  you  bear   to  leave  your  father  and  kindred's 
house,  and  to  trust  on  him   (who  feedeth  the  young  ravens 
that  call  upon  him)  for  your  own  and  children's  support,  sup- 
posing it  should  please  him  to  bless  you  with  any?     Can  you 
bear  the  inclemencies  of  the  air,  both  as  to  cold  and  heat,  in  a 
foreign  climate  1     Can  you,  when  you  have  a  husband,  be  as 
though  you  had  none,  and  willingly  part  with  him,  even  for  a 
long  season,  when  his  Lord  and  Master  shall  call  him  forth  to 
preach  the  gospel,  and  command  him  to  leave  you  behind  ? 
If,  after  seeking  to  God   for  direction,   and  searching  your 
heart,  you  can  say,  '  I  can  do  all  those  things,  through  Christ 
strengthening  me,'  what  if  you  and  I  were  joined  together  in 
the  Lord,  and  you  came  with  me  at  my  return  from  England, 
to  be  a  help-meet  for  me  in  the  management  of  the   orphan- 
house  1     I  have  great  reason  to  believe  it  is  the  divine  will 
that  I  should  alter  my  condition,  and  have  often  thought  you 
were  the  person  appointed  for  me.      I  shall  still  wait  on  God 
for  direction,  and  heartily  entreat  him,  that  if  this  motion  be 
not  of  him,  it  may  come  to  naught. — I  write  thus  plainly,  be- 
cause, I  trust  I  write,  not  from  any  other  principles,  but  the 
love  of  God. — I   shall  make  it  my  business  to   call  on  the 
Lord  Jesus,  and   would  advise  you  to  consult  both  him  and 
your  friends — for,  in   order  to  obtain  a  blessing,    we  should 
call  both  the  Lord  Jesus  and  his  disciples  to  the  marriage. — 
I  much  like  the  manner  of  Isaac's   marrying  with  Rebekah  ; 
and  think  no  marriage  can  succeed  well,  unless  both  parties 
concerned  are  like-minded  with  Tobias  and  his  wife. — I  think 
I   can  call  the   God  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob   to  wit- 
ness, that  I  desire  '  to  take  you   my   sister  to  wife,    not   for 
lust,  but  uprightly  ; '  and  therefore  I  hope   he  will  mercifully 
ordain,  if  it  be  his  blessed  will  we  should  be  joined  together, 
that  we  may  walk  as  Zachary  and  Elisabeth  did,    in   all   the 
ordinances  of  the  Lord  blameless.     I  make  no  great  pro- 
fession to  you,  because  I  believe  you  think  me  sincere.    The 


176       whitefield's    life    and   times. 

passionate  expressions  which  carnal  courtiers  use,  I  think 
ought  to  be  avoided  by  those  who  marry  in  the  Lord.  I  can 
only  promise,  by  the  help  of  God,  'to  keep  my  matrimonial 
vow,  and  to  do  what  I  can  towards  helping  you  forward  in  the 
great  work  of  your  salvation.'  If  you  think  marriage  will 
be  any  way  prejudicial  to  your  better  part,  be  so  kind  as  to 
send  me  a  denial.  I  would  not  be  a  snare  to  you  for  the 
world,  lou  need  not  be  afraid  of  speaking  your  mind, — I 
trust  I  love  you  only  for  God,  and  desire  to  be  joined  to  you 
only  by  his  command,  and  for  his  sake.  With  fear  and  much 
trembling  I  write,  and  shall  patiently  tarry  the  Lord's  leisure, 

till  he  is  pleased  to  incline  you,  dear  Miss  E ,  to  send  an 

answer  to, 

Your  affectionate  brother,  friend, 

and  servant  in  Christ, 

G.  W.» 

Whitefield  returned  to  Savannah,  with  collections  for  Beth- 
esda,  to  the  amount  of  £500,  in  money  and  goods.  On  his 
way  he  preached  at  Lewis  Town,  to  what  he  calls  "  as  unaf- 
fected a  congregation  "  as  he  had  seen  in  America.  Next 
day,  however,  he  compelled  the  politest  of  them  to  weep, 
whilst  he  pictured  the  trial  of  Abraham's  faith  ; — a  favourite 
and  efficient  sermon  with  him  :  but  he  adds,  (what  other  min- 
isters had  found  only  too  true,)  "  Alas,  when  I  came  to  turn 
from  the  creature  to  the  Creator,  and  to  talk  of  God's  love  in 
sacrificing  his  only  begotten  Son,  their  tears,  I  observed, 
dried  up.  I  told  them  of  it ; — and  could  not  but  hence  infer 
the  dreadful  depravity  of  human  nature,  that  we  can  weep  at 
the  sufferings  of  a  martyr,  a  mere  man  like  ourselves  ;  but 
when  are  we  affected  at  the  relation  of  the  sufferings  of  the 
Son  of  God?" 

His  reception  at  Savannah,  on  this  occasion,  deserves 
particular  attention.  It  engraved  the  orphan-house  upon  his 
heart,  as  with  the  pen  of  a  diamond  ;  and  was  forever  vividly 
present  to  him,  wherever  he  went  afterwards.  "  And  no 
wonder  !  " — it  will  be  said,  after  reading  his  own  account  of 
this  welcome.  "  Oh  what  a  sweet  meeting  I  had  with  my 
dear  friends  !  What  God  has  prepared  for  me — I  know  not: 
but  surely  I  cannot  well  expect  a  greater  happiness,  till  I 
embrace  the  saints  in  glory  !  When  I  parted,  my  heart  was 
ready  to  break  with  sorrow  ;  but  now  it  almost  burst  with  joy. 
Oh  how  did  each,  in  turn,  hang  upon  my  neck,  kiss,  and 


whitefield's   life   and  times.  177 

weep  over  mc  with  tears  of  joy  !  And  my  own  soul  was  so 
full  of  a  sense  of  God's  love,  when  I  embraced  one  friend 
in  particular,  that  I  thought  I  should  have  expired  in  the 
place.  I  felt  my  soul  so  full  of  a  sense  of  the  divine  good- 
ness, that  I  wanted  words  to  express  myself.  Why  mc, 
Lord — why  me  1 

"  When  we  came  to  public  worship,  young  and  old  were 
all  dissolved  in  tears.  After  service,  several  of  my  parish- 
ioners, all  my  family,  and  the  little  children,  returned  home, 
crying  along  the  street,  and  some  could  not  avoid  praying 
very  loud. 

"  Being  very  weak  in  body,  I  laid  myself  upon  a  bed  ;  but 
finding  so  many  in  weeping  condition,  I  rose  and  betook  my- 
self to  prayer  again.  But  I  had  not  lifted  up  my  voice  very 
high — the  groans  and  cries  of  the  children  would  have  pre- 
vented my  being  heard.  This  continued  for  near  an  hour  ; 
till  at  last,  finding  their  concern  rather  increase  than  abate,  I 
desired  all  to  retire.  Then  some  or  other  might  be  heard 
praying  earnestly,  in  every  corner  of  the  house. 

"  It  happened  at  this  time  to  thunder  and  lighten,  which 
added  very  much  to  the  solemnity  of  the  night.  Next  day  the 
concern  still  continued,  especially  among  the  girls.  I  men- 
tion the  orphans  in  particular,  that  their  benefactors  may  re- 
joice in  what  God  is  doing  for  their  souls." 

This  was  just  the  scene  to  inspire  and  determine  White- 
field  to  live  or  die  for  the  orphan-house.  Accordingly,  the 
memory  of  it  followed  him  like  his  shadow,  wherever  he 
went. 

His  family  had  now  increased  to  a  hundred  and  fifty  per- 
sons. He  therefore  visited  Charleston  again,  to  plead  their 
cause  anew.  But  by  this  time  Commissary  Garden  was 
ready  to  stake  his  "  fortune  and  life"  against  him.  He  began 
by  abusing  Whitefield  and  the  Methodists,  in  their  presence, 
by  a  sermon  "  as  virulent,  unorthodox,  and  inconsistent  as 
ever  was  delivered  ;  "  and  ended  by  refusing  him  the 
sacrament. 

This  insult  had  its  natural  effect.  It  so  disgusted  several 
of  Whitefield's  friends,  that  they  would  not  receive  the  sacra- 
ment from  Garden.  This  led  to  sacraments  in  a  private 
house  ;  and  there,  "  Baptists,  church  folks,  and  Presbyterians, 
all  joined  together,  and  received,  according  to  the  Church  of 
England  ;  excepting  two,  who  desired  to  have  it  sitting."  Gar- 
den then  cited  Whitefield  to  appear  in  an  ecclesiastical  court, 


178        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

for  not  reading  the  Common  Prayer  in  the  Presbyterian 
meeting-honse,  at  Charleston.  He  accordingly  did  appear, 
and  appealed  according  to  law,  to  his  Majesty's  commission- 
ers for  reviewing  appeals.  He  wrote  also  to  the  bishop  of 
London,  inquiring?  "Whether  the  commissary  of  South  Caro- 
lina had  power  to  exercise  any  judicial  authority  over  him  or 
any  other  clergyman,  not  belonging  to  the  province."  Garden 
had,  in  fact,  suspended  him  from  the  ministry.  He  had, 
therefore,  no  alternative  but  to  submit,  or  to  lay  his  case  be- 
fore the  high  court  of  chancery  ;  which  he  did.  Strange  to 
say,  this  suspension,  and  his  appeal  against  it,  were  afterwards 
pleaded  against  him  in  the  synod  of  Glasgow,  when  they  met 
"  anent  employing  Mr.  Whitefield  "  in  the  pulpits  of  the 
church  of  Scotland.  One  member  of  the  synod,  however, 
(probably  Dr.  Erskine,)  asked  indignantly,  "  For  what  was 
Whitefield  suspended  1  Why,  for  no  other  crime  than  omit- 
ting to  use  a  form  of  prayer  prescribed  in  the  communion- 
book,  when  officiating  in  a  Presbyterian  congregation  !  And 
shall  a  meeting  of  Presbyterian  ministers  pay  any  regard  to  a 
sentence  which  had  such  a  foundation  1 " 

Notwithstanding  this  suspension,  he  continued  preaching, 
wherever  he  could,  in  the  province,  until  the  excessive  heat 
of  the  season  compelled  him  to  sail  for  New  England.  He 
embarked  for  Rhode  Island,  intending  to  go  by  land  to  Bos- 
ton ;  and  such  was  the  spring  of  his  constitution,  that  the  short 
voyage  completely  restored  him,  although  he  had  often  been 
all  but  dead  before  he  left. 

On  his  arrival  at  Newport,  he  met  with  a  new  friend,  Mr. 
Clap,  whom  he  describes  thus  :  "  An  aged  dissenting  minis- 
ter ;  but  the  most  venerable  man  I  ever  saw  in  my  life.  He 
looked  like  a  good  old  puritan,  and  gave  me  an  idea  of  what 
stamp  those  men  were  who  first  settled  in  New  England. 
His  countenance  was  very  heavenly  !  He  rejoiced  much  to 
see  me,  and  prayed  most  affectionately  for  a  blessing  on  my 
coming  to  Rhode  Island.  Whilst  at  his  table,  I  could  not 
but  think  that  I  was  sitting  with  one  of  the  patriarchs." 
Whitefield  has  not  over-rated  nor  over-coloured  the  patriarch 
of  Rhode  Island.  Clap  "  had  some  singularities;  but  his  zeal 
to  promote  the  knowledge  of  Christ  and  the  interests  of  the 
Gospel,  cast  a  lustre  over  all  his  character." — American 
Biog.  Children,  servants,  and  slaves,  were  objects  of  his 
special  care ;  and,  being  a  bachelor,  he  gave  away  all  his  in- 
come to  the  poor  and  the  perishing.     I  mention  this,  to  dis- 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        179 

tinguish  him  (in  this  country)  from   Clap,  the   president  of 
Yale  College,  who  opposed  Whitefield. 

After  preaching  with  great  success  on  Rhode  Island,  he 
rode  on  to  Boston,  and  was  met  by  the  governor's  son,  and 
other  gentlemen,  four  miles  (not  ten,  as  Gillies  says)  from  the 
city.  At  this  time,  Jonathan  Belcher  was  governor  of  Mas- 
sachusetts ;  a  man  equally  distinguished  for  piety  and  polish. 
He  owed  his  honours  to  the  favourable  impression  made  by 
his  high  character  and  address,  upon  the  Princess  Sophia 
and  her  son,  (afterwards  George  II.)  when  in  England  ;  and 
he  regained  them,  when  they  were  lost  through  calumny,  by 
vindicating  himself  before  the  throne,  where  they  had  been 
conferred.  Princetown  College  owes  much  to  Belcher  ;  and 
he  was  much  indebted  to  Whitefield  for  the  impulse  which 
made  him  its  "  chief  patron  and  benefactor."  His  splendid 
hospitalities  and  style  were  in  their  palmy  state,  when  White- 
field  first  visited  Boston.  Willard,  also,  the  secretary  of 
Massachusetts,  was  a  man  of  high  and  holy  character.  He 
was  the  son  of  Vice  President  Willard,  of  Harvard  College  ; 
the  author  of  the  first  theological  folio  printed  in  America, 
and  one  of  the  chief  opponents  of  trial  for  witchcraft.  The 
son  inherited  the  father's  spirit. 

Such  were  the  statesmen  who  welcomed  Whitefield  to  Bos- 
ton. Some  of  the  ministers  also  were  not  less  eminent.  Dr. 
Colman,  his  first  friend,  had  been,  when  in  England,  the  friend 
of  Howe,  Calamy,  Burkitt,  and  Mrs.  Rowe,  then  Miss  Singer. 
Indeed,  he  had  a  caste  of  Howe  in  his  demeanour  and  spirit. 
Cooper,  also,  his  colleague,  was  a  man  who  wanted  only  the 
visit  of  Whitefield,  in  order  to  be  a  Whitefield  ;  which,  as  a 
revivalist,  he  soon  became.  Webb,  too,  was  no  ordinary  man. 
Dr.  Eliot,  who  was  his  colleague  for  eight  years,  said  of  him, 
that  "  he  was  one  of  the  best  of  Christians,  and  one  of  the  best 
of  ministers."  Foxcroft  also,  deserves  a  high  place  in  the  reli- 
gious annals  of  Boston,  and  in  the  list  of  Whitefield's  American 
friends  ; — Dr.  Chauncy,  his  colleague,  being  witness.  He 
published  "  An  Apology  for  Whitefield,"  in  1745,  as  well  as  a 
sermon  on  his  "  Labours,"  in  1740.  Dr.  Chauncy  says  of 
Foxcroft,  "  His  writings  bear  testimony  to  his  unfeigned  piety, 
and  evince  clearness  of  conception,  copiousness  of  invention, 
liveliness  of  imagination,  and  soundness  of  judgment."  Fune- 
ral Sermon. 

Prince,  the  annalist,  was  another  of  the  Boston  stars, 
which  "  fought  in  their  courses,"  for  Whitefield  and  revivals  : 


180        whitefield's   life   and  times. 

a  somewhat  eccentric  star,  indeed,  when  judged  of  by  the  plan 
of  his  "Chronological  Historyof  New  England,"  which  begUM 
at  the  creation  of  the  world,  and  ends  with  the  arrival  of  Gov- 
ernor Belcher !  Still,  he  was  evidently  a  man  of  great  re- 
search and  erudition,  as  well  as  of  ardent  piety.  Dr.  Chaun- 
cy  (no  mean  judge  in  the  matter)  regarded  him  as  next  to 
Cotton  Mather  in  learning.  By  the  way,  what  became  of  the 
MSS.  and  books  which  Prince  left  to  the  old  South  church, 
as  "  The  New  England  Library  1  "  The  collection  was  great 
and  valuable.  Can  it  be  true  that  the  MSS.  were  destroyed 
by  the  British,  except  by  accident  1  I  ask  this  question,  be- 
cause I  find  "  No,"  in  pencil-mark,  on  the  margin  of  my  copy 
of  Amer.  Ilio". 

o 

Gee,  also,  deserves  honourable  mention  amongst  the 
friends  of  Whitefield.  He  had  been,  in  early  life,  the  colleague 
of  Dr.  Cotton  Mather.  After  the  Doctor's  death,  his  son 
Samuel  became  the  colleague  of  Gee,  and  continued  so  until 
they  differed  on  the  subject  of  revivals  ;  of  which  Gee  was 
both  a  wise  and  warm  advocate.  He  seems  to  have  had, 
with  some  of  Coleridge's  genius,  all  his  indolence  and  love 
of  talking.  The  judicious  and  cautious  Dr.  Sewall  also,  was 
one  of  the  first  to  welcome  Whitefield  to  his  pulpit  and  his 
confidence. 

Thus  Whitefield  fell  into  the  best  hands  at  Boston.  No- 
thing gratified  hiin  more,  however,  than  his  interviews  with 
old  Mr.  Walter,  the  colleague  and  successor  of  the  apostolic 
Eliot,  at  Roxbury.  The  pastorship  of  that  church  had  been 
confined  to  these  two  patriarchs  an  hundred  and  six  years  at 
this  time.  Whitefield  says  of  Walter,  "  he  was  a  good  old 
puritan."  He  returned  Whitefield  the  compliment  on  hear- 
ing him  preach  at  the  governor's  table  ;  saying  of  the  ser- 
mon, "  It  was  puritanism  revived."  Dr.  Colman  said  of  this 
interview,  that  "  it  was  the  happiest  day  he  ever  saw  in  his 
life."  One  remark  of  Walter's  pleased  Whitefield  very  much: 
"  I  am  glad  to  hear,"  said  the  old  apostle,  "  that  you  call  man 
half  devil,  half  beast." 

Neither  the  governor  nor  the  doctors  of  Boston,  however, 
could  get  Whitefield  into  the  church  The  commissary  treat- 
ed him  politely,  and  introduced  him  to  his  clergy,  but  would  not 
admit  him  to  the  pulpit ;  he  therefore  preached  in  all  the 
large  chapels,  and  when  they  became  too  small  for  the  audien- 
ces, he  betook  himself  to  the  Common,  and  there  renewed 
the  scenes  of  Moorfieids  and  Blackheath. 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        181 

A  melancholy  catastrophe  arose  from  fright,  at  one  of  the 
chapels.  The  place  was  crowded  to  excess,  but  there  had 
been  nothing  to  create  alarm  :  "  yet,  on  a  sudden,  all  the 
people  were  in  an  uproar ;  and  so  unaccountably  surprised, 
that  some  threw  themselves  out  of  the  windows  ;  others  out  of 
the  galleries  ;  others  trampled  on  one  another  :  so  that  fioe 
were  actually  killed,  and  many  dangerously  wounded."  This 
awful  uproar  was  at  its  height  when  Whitefield  reached  the 
chapel  :  and  although  he  saw  some  the  victims  of  it,  he  had 
presence  of  mind  enough  to  call  off  the  people  to  hear  him  on 
the  Common.  This  restored  confidence.  Thousands  followed 
him  to  the  fields,  and  listened  with  deep  attention,  whilst  he 
improved  this  "  humbling  providence."  It  did  humble  him. 
I  have  no  doubt  of  its  being  the  chief  consideration,  which 
made  him  write  in  his  journal,  on  leaving  Boston,  "  I  had 
such  a  sense  of  my  own  vileness  upon  my  soul,  that  I  won- 
dered people  did  not  stone  me."  Not  that  he  could  blame 
himself  at  all  for  the  catastrophe  :  but  it  made  him  feel  his 
own  nothingness  before  God,  and  thus  before  man  also.  Ac- 
cordingly, in  a  letter  to  Hovvel  Harris,  at  this  time,  he  pre- 
dicted with  great  accuracy  the  reverses  of  his  own  popularity 
in  London:  "  My  coming  to  England  will  try  my  fidelity  to 
my  Master.  Those  that  before,  1  suppose,  would  have  pluck- 
ed out  their  eyes  for  me,  now,  I  suspect,  will  be  very  shy, 
and  avoid  me."  This  had  no  reference  to  the  calamity  at 
Boston  ;  but  that  had  opened  his  eyes  to  the  precariousness 
of  popularity.  He  saw  how  any  token  of  judgment,  in  con- 
nexion with  his  ministry,  might  be  turned  into  an  objection 
against  his  doctrines,  now  that  he  had  assailed  Wesley. 

The  calamity  did  not  affect  his  popularity  at  Boston.  On 
the  day  after,  he  preached  twice  in  Mr.  Gee's  chapel,  to  im- 
mense audiences.  He  then  visited  Cambridge  College,  and 
preached  before  the  professors  and  students,  and  a  great 
number  of  the  neighbouring  ministers.  What  was  "the  close 
application"  he  made  of  the  sermon  to  "the  tutors  and  stu- 
dents," may  be  easily  judged  from  the  horror  he  felt  at  an 
unconverted  ministry.  It  was,  however,  too  unqualified,  bad 
as  the  spiritual  state  of  Cambridge  was  at  that  time.  Accord- 
ingly, he  afterwards  begged  pardon  for  his  rashness  in  taking 
things  upon  "  hearsay."  But,  whilst  some  took  offence,  his 
Boston  friends,  including  the  governor,  seem  to  have  taken 
the  warning  well.  They  all  met  him  next  day  at  the  govern- 
or's table.     Before  dinner,  his   Excellency  thanked  him  pri- 

16 


182       whitbfield's    life    and    times. 

vately  with  tears,  and  after  dinner,  sent  him  in  the  state-car- 
riage through  the  city  to  the  place  where  he  had  to  preach. 
On  the  following  Sabbath  he  collected,  in  two  of  the  chapels, 
upwards  of  £1000  currency  for  his  orphan-house. 

In  the  excursions  he  made  through  Massachusetts,  White- 
field  met,  at  Ipswich,  with  a  venerable  descendant  of  Rogers 
of  Dedham,  who  himself  was  a  descendant  of  Rogers  the 
martyr.  The  hallowed  associations  which  enshrined  this 
hoary  head  were  not  lost  upon  him.  "  Happy  lot !"  he  ex- 
claimed, as  he  looked  back  to  the  old  man's  ancestors,  and 
around  upon  his  promising  sons.  Whitefield  inherited  the 
spirit  of  the  Rogers's  ;   but  he  felt  that  he  had  not  their  mantle. 

On  his  return  to  Boston,  the  public  interest  was  higher  than 
ever.  A  report  that  he  had  been  poisoned,  filled  the  city. 
Twenty  thousand  people,  therefore,  attended  his  first  sermon. 
And  both  in  the  fields  and  in  the  chapels,  all  seemed  melted, 
and  many  acknowledged  themselves  won,  by  the  gospel. 
One  of  his  most  effectual  sermons  at  Webb's  chapel,  was  oc- 
casioned by  the  touching  remark  of  a  dying  boy,  who  had 
heard  him  the  day  before.  The  boy  was  taken  ill  after  the 
sermon,  and  said,  "I  want  to  go  to  Mr.  Whitefield's  God; " — 
and  expired.  This  touched  "  the  secret  place  "  of  both  the 
thunder  and  the  tears  of  Whitefield.  "It  encouraged  me  to 
speak  to  little  ones:  but  oh,  how  were  the  old  people  affect- 
ed, when  I  said,  'Little  children,  if  your  parents  will  not  come 
to  Christ,  do  you  come,  and  go  to  heaven  without  them.' " 
After  this  awful  appeal,  no  wonder  that  "  there  were  but  few 
dry  eyes."  Only  a  Whitefield,  however,  could  have  drawn 
tears  by  it.  In  the  generality  of  lips,  it  would  harden,  not 
soften,  worldly  parents ;  and  only  shock  affectionate  children. 

In  this  state  of  mind  Whitefield  set  out  to  visit  Jonathan 
Edwards,  at  Northampton.  He  was  not  allowed  to  quit  Bos- 
ton privately.  The  governor  took  him  in  the  state-carriage 
to  the  ferry;  and,  as  he  entered  the  boat,  embraced  him,  and 
bade  him  farewell,  with  many  tears.  Belcher  could  not  be 
satisfied  with  even  this  courtesy.  He  crossed  the  country, 
and  met  him  again  at  Marlborough,  Worcester  and  Leicester. 
On  parting  finally,  his  excellency  said  to  him  in  private,  "  Mr. 
Whitefield,  go  on  in  stirring  up  the  ministers  ;  for  reformation 
must  begin  at  the  house  of  God.  And  do  not  spare  rulers, 
no  not  the  chief  of  them,  any  more  than  ministers." 

I  have  often  thought,  whilst  reviewing  the  sweeping  and 
severe  invectives,  which  Whitefield  so  bitterly  repented,  that 


wiiitefield's  life   and  times.         183 

no  small  part  of  the  blame  lay  at  the  governor's  door.  A 
charge  like  this,  uttered  with  tears  and  entreaties,  was  enough 
to  mislead  a  cooler  man  than  George  Whitefield.  I  must, 
therefore,  say  of  it,  what  he  said  of  his  own  conduct,  "  It  was 
well  meant,  but  it  did  hurt."  To  his  credit  for  impartiality, 
however,  he  did  not  spare  the  governor  himself;  but,  before 
leaving  New  England,  wrote  to  him  thus  faithfully :  "  I 
thought  your  excellency  wanted  a  more  clear  view  of  your 
own  vileness,  and  of  the  all-sufficiency  of  Jesus  Christ.  I 
mean  a  more  experimental  view  :  for  what  is  all  head-know- 
ledge without  that  of  the  heart  1  It  only  settles  people  more 
upon  their  lees.  May  God  give  you  to  see  and  to  follow  the 
simplicity  of  the  blessed  Jesus  !  Honoured  sir,  I  make  no 
apology  for  this  freedom  ;  your  excelleucy  bade  me  not  spare 
rulers — no  not  the  chief  of  them.''  Whitefield  has  often  been 
charged  with  flattering  himself  upon  the  attentions  paid  to  him 
by  the  great  :  this  is  one  instance  in  which  he  did  not  flatter 
the  great  in  return. 

On  his  arrival  at  Northampton,  that  cradle  of  revivals,  he 
was  at  home  at  once  with  Jonathan  Edwards.  Their  meet- 
ing, as  Gillies  says,  "was  like  putting  fire  to  tinder."  So  it 
was,  in  the  best  sense.  Edward's  family  and  flock  soon 
glowed  with  the  warmth  of  their  first  love,  and  melted  to  their 
first  penitence.  But  whilst  these  two  eminent  ministers 
esteemed,  and  even  loved  each  other,  as  servants  of  God, 
Edwards  did  not  think  that  Whitefield  regarded  him  as  a  con- 
fidential friend  exactly.  The  fact  is,  Edwards  had  cautioned 
him  upon  the  subject  of  impulses,  and  guarded  him  against 
the  practice  of  judging  others  to  be  unconverted.  This  was 
touching  sore  places,  at  the  time.  Whitefield  seems  to  have 
winced  a  little,  with  impatience,  under  the  metaphysical  probe 
of  Edwards  ;  but  to  have  conceded  nothing  then.  They 
parted,  however,  with  mutual  love  ;  and  whatever  difference 
existed  between  their  theories  of  impulses,  both  soon  rejoiced 
equally  in  "  a  glorious  progress  of  the  work  of  God,"  at 
Northampton,  that  year.    Sereno  DicigMs  Life  of  Edwards. 

On  the  way  from  Northampton  to  Windsor,  Whitefield  had 
a  narrow  escape  :  his  horse  shrunk  back  at  a  broken  bridge  ; 
and  when  urged  forward,  threw  him  over  it.  He  fell  upon 
his  face  ;  but  providentially  in  the  sand,  not  in  the  water. 
He  was  stunned  for  a  time,  and  bled  a  little  ;  but  next  day 
he  preached  twice.  His  evening  service  was  at  East  Wind- 
sor, where  Jonathan  Edwards's  venerable  father  was  minis- 


184        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

ter.  He  was  much  pleased  with  this  family.  "  Mr.  Ed- 
wards's wife  was  as  aged,  I  believe,  as  himself;  so  that  I  fan- 
cied I  was  sitting  in  the  house  of  Zachaiias  and  Elizabeth." 

His  visit  to  New-Haven,  also  deserves  to  be  recorded.  It 
had  not  a  little  to  do  with  the  conversion  of  the  celebrated  Dr. 
Samuel  Hopkins,  then  a  student ;  although  not  so  much  con- 
nected with  it  as  the  subsequent  appeals  of  Brainerd  to  him. 
Hopkins  says,  that  he  was  "  somewhat  impressed  "  by  what 
Whitefield  said,  both  in  public  and  private  :  and  that  he  "jus- 
tified him"  in  his  own  mind,  whilst  many  "condemned  him" 
for  his  severe  attacks  upon  the  "  mixed  dancing  and  frolick- 
ing," then  so  prevalent  in  New  England.  Hopkins's  Me- 
moirs. Would  that  all  the  Hopkinsians  in  America  were  Hop- 
Icinsian  in  that  article  of  their  father's  creed,  "  that  it  is  both 
the  duty  and  interest  of  the  American  State  to  emancipate 
all  their  African  slaves." 

Whilst  at  New-Haven,  Whitefield  dined  at  the  college  with 
Principal  Clap; — afterwards  his  opponent.  Clap's  dislike  to 
him  seems  to  have  begun  with  their  first  interview.  At  table, 
Whitefield  attacked  the  scheme  of  "  an  unconverted  minis- 
try," and  showed  its  "  ill  consequences,"  without  ceremony. 
He  appears  also  to  have  hinted  at  his  own  scheme  of  supply- 
ing "faithful  men  "  to  the  American  churches,  from  Britain, 
to  be  ordained  by  the  Tennents. 

This  was  certainly  the  subject  then  discussed  at  New-Ha- 
ven Hall  ;  and  the  spirit  of  the  discussion,  on  the  part  of 
Whitefield,  may  be  conjectured  from  the  evening  note  in  his 
diary  ;  "  Oh  that  God  may  quicken  ministers  !  Oh  that  the 
Lord  may  make  us  all  flames  of  holy  fire  !  Come,  Lord 
Jesus  ;  come  quickly.     Amen  and  Amen." 

In  general,  Whitefield's  evening  reflections  embody  the 
spirit  of  the  day  :  and  on  this  day,  his  spirit  was  too  warm  for 
Clap's  temperament.  Clap,  although  a  good  man,  would 
have  sympathized  more  with  a  Newton  or  a  Paley,  than  with  a 
flaming  evangelist.  He  could  construct  an  orrery  for  Ame- 
rica ;  but  he  could  not  elevate  the  stars  of  her  churches.  He 
could  refute  infidels  and  heretics  ;  but  he  could  not  revive 
formalists. 

The  governor,  although  very  old,  sympathized  more  than 
the  professor,  with  Whitefield's  zeal.  He  said  to  him,  after 
sermon,  "  I  am  glad,  sir,  to  see  you,  and  heartily  glad  to  hear 
you."  "His  heart  was  so  full,  that  he  could  not  speak  much. 
The  tears  trickled  down  his  aged  cheeks,  like  drops  of  rain." 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        185 

"  He  was  thankful  to  God,"  he  said,  "  for  such  refreshings  on 
the  way  to  our  rest :  food  does  us  good,  when  we  eat  it  with 
an  appetite." 

On  leaving  New-Haven,  he  thundered  out  at  Stamford  and 
Rye,  the  opinions  against  unconverted  ministers,  which  he 
had  broached  at  college  :  and  the  effect  was  tremendous. 
"  All  hearers  were  ready  to  cry  out."  "At  dinner,  two  minis- 
ters, with  tears  in  their  eyes,  publicly  confessed  that  they  had 
laid  hands  on  two  young  men,  without  so  much  as  asking 
whether  they  were  born  again  of  God,  or  not?"  One  aged 
minister  confessed  in  private,  that  he  had  "  never  felt  the 
power  of  the  doctrines  of  grace  on  his  soul,  although  he  had 
preached  them  long." 

What  Whitefield  himself  thought  of  the  attacks  he  thus 
made  upon  an  unregenerate  ministry,  during  his  tour  in  New- 
England,  is  but  too  evident  from  a  letter  to  his  friend  Haber- 
sham, dated  on  the  very  day  he  was  with  Clap  at  New-Ha- 
ven :  "I  am  glad  God  is  scourging  out  the  children  of  Belial. 
You  often  heard  me  say,  He  would  do  so."  All  were  not  the 
children  of  Belial  whom  Whitefield  scourged  at  this  time;  but 
still,  it  is  as  impossible  to  doubt  the  need  of  the  scourge,  as  it 
is  to  approve  of  its  sweeping  strokes.  Those  who  did  not 
deserve  them,  would  not  have  got  them,  had  every  converted 
minister  been  faithful  to  his  unconverted  brother.  Had  all 
the  spiritual  men  done  their  duty  to  the  formalists,  Whitefield 
would  have  been  the  first  to  honour  them. 

He  now  directed  his  steps  again  towards  New- York.  His 
former  visit  to  that  city  disappointed  him.  He  could  not  for- 
get this  by  the  way.  "  My  heart  was  somewhat  dejected.  I 
told  Mr.  Noble  (his  companion)  I  expected  but  little  movings 
in  New- York  ;  but  Mr.  Noble  bid  me  expect  great  things 
from  God  ;  and  told  me  of  several  who  were,  as  he  hoped, 
savingly  wrought  upon  by  my  ministry,  when  there  last." 
Accordingly,  the  impression  was  great  for  New- York — then. 
It  made  him  cry  out  in  his  chamber,  "  Lord,  why  did  I 
doubt  1  "  Under  his  first  sermon,  a  few  cried  out ;  and  even 
his  friend  Noble  could  hardly  refrain. 

On  the  Sabbath,  however,  he  was  much  dejected,  before 
the  evening  sermon.  "  For  nearly  half  an  hour,  I  could  only 
lay  before  the  Lord,  saying, — I  was  a  miserable  sinner,  and 
wondered  that  Christ  would  be  gracious  to  such  a  wretch. 
As  I  went  to  meeting,  I  grew  weaker  ;  and  when  I  came  into 

16* 


186       whttefield's    life    and    times. 

the  pulpit,  I  could  have  chosen  to  be  silent,  rather  than 
speak." 

As  might  be  expected,  this  self-emptying  was  followed  by 
a  rich  unction  from  on  high.  "  After  I  was  begun,  the  whole 
congregation  was  alarmed.  Crying,  weeping,  and  wailing, 
were  to  be  heard  in  every  corner  ;  and  many  seen  falling  into 
the  arms  of  their  friends.  My  own  soul  was  carried  out,  till  I 
could  scarce  speak  any  more."  Still  the  Common  was  not 
needed  at  New-York. 

Next  day  he  went  to  Staten  Island,  on  his  way  back  to 
Philadelphia ;  preaching  by  turns  with  Gilbert  Tenncnt. 
At  Baskcnridge,  a  poor  negro  woman,  who  had  been  con- 
verted under  his  sermon,  somewhat  embarrassed,  as  well  as 
pleased  him,  by  her  gratitude.  She  insisted  upon  going 
along  with  him,  (to  Savannah,  I  suppose,)  and  told  him, 
that  her  master  had  consented  to  let  her  go.  He  says,  "  I 
bid  her  go  home,  and  with  a  thankful  heart,  serve  her  present 
master." 

At  New  Brunswick  he  found,  if  not  a  warmer,  a  more  influ- 
ential friend,  in  Aaron  Burr,  afterwards  the  president  of  New 
Jersey  College ;  one  of  the  master-spirits  of  his  age  and 
country.  Whitefield  owed  much  to  this  friendship,  besides 
the  degree  of  A.M.  in  1754.  It  was  mainly  through  Burr's 
influence  that  Gilbert  Tennent  was  induced  to  go  to  Boston, 
to  water  the  seed  Whitefield  had  sown  there. 

As  they  drew  nearer  Philadelphia,  they  had  a  most  provi- 
dential escape.  "  There  were  two  creeks,  in  the  way,  much 
swollen  with  rain.  In  one  of  them,  two  of  my  fellow-travel- 
lers, in  all  probability,  must  have  perished,  had  not  a  woman 
cried  out,  and  bid  us  stop.  A  man  (as  I  afterwards  found) 
who  had  been  touched  by  my  ministry,  hearing  my  voice,  came 
and  swam  our  horses  over  the  other  creek,  and  conducted  us 
safe  over  a  very  narrow  bridge." 

On  his  arrival  at  Philadelphia,  he  found  a  house,  100  feet 
long  and  70  broad,  building  for  him  to  preach  in.  He  opened 
it,  although  the  roof  was  not  on  ;  and  continued  to  preach  in 
it  every  day,  until  the  snow  (it  was  now  the  middle  of  No- 
vember) drove  him  to  the  chapels  again.  One  afternoon, 
whilst  preaching  against  "  reasoning  unbelievers,"  his  ser- 
mon made  but  little  impression  on  the  people.  An  infidel 
caught  at  this  failure  of  effect ;  and  said  to  one  of  Whitefield's 
friends,  "  What !  Mr.  W.  could  not  make  the  people  cry 
this  afternoon  ?"     "A  good  reason  for  it,"  (said  his  friend,) 


whitefield's  life   and  times  187 

"he  was  preaching  against  deists,  and  you  know  they  are  a 
hardened  generation."  lie  was  not,  however,  always  so  un- 
successful amongst  the  Philadelphia!!  infidels,  Brockden, 
the  Recorder,  who  had  long  been  almost  an  atheist,  was  in- 
duced to  steal  into  the  crowd  at  night,  to  hear  him  for  once. 
The  sermon  was  on  Nicodemus's  visit  to  Christ.  Brockden's 
visit  to  Whitefield  had  a  similar  motive.  He  saw,  as  he  after- 
wards confessed,  that  "  the  doctrine  did  people  good." 
When  he  came  home,  his  wife  (not  knowing  where  he  had 
been)  wished  that  he  had  heard  what  she  had  been  hearing. 
He  said  nothing.  Another  and  another  of  his  family  came  in, 
and  made  the  same  remark.  He  burst  into  tears,  and  said,  "I 
have  been  hearing  him,  and  approve  of  his  sermon."  White- 
field  afterwards  knew  him  as  a  Christian,  with  the  spirit  of  a 
"  martyr." 

His  tour  was  now  closing.  On  reviewing  it,  before  he 
sailed  for  Charleston,  he  says, — "  Stop,  O  my  soul,  and  look 
back  with,  gratitude  on  what  the  Lord  hath  done  for  thee, 
during  thia  excursion.  It  is  now,  I  think,  the  seventy  fifth 
day  since  I  arrived  at  Rhode  Island.  My  body  was  then 
weak  ;  but  the  Lord  has  renewed  its  strength.  I  have  been 
enabled  to  preach,  I  think,  a  hundred  and  seventy-five  times 
in  public,  besides  exhorting  frequently  in  private.  I  have 
travelled  upwards  of  eight  hundred  miles,  and  gotten  upwards 
of  £700  sterling,  in  money,  &c.  for  the  Georgia  orphans. 
Never  did  God  vouchsafe  me  greater  comforts.  Never  did  I 
perform  my  journeys  with  so  little  fatigue,  nor  see  so  much  of 
the  divine  presence  in  the  congregations." 

In  this  spirit  he  arrived  at  Bethesda,  and  found  all  his  fami- 
ly well.  For  some  time  he  was  much  occupied  with  making 
his  arrangements  for  sailing  to  England  ;  and  having  com- 
pleted them,  and  taken  "  a  sorrowful  and  affectionate  leave  " 
of  his  family,  he  went  to  Savannah  to  take  leave  there  also. 
On  the  way  he  narrowly  escaped  being  shot  by  a  labourer, 
who  was  walking  with  a  gun  under  his  arm,  only  two  yards 
behind  him.  The  gun  went  oft*  una  wares  ;  but  its  mouth  was 
towards  the  ground.  "  Otherwise,"  he  says,  "  in  all  proba- 
bility, I  and  one  of  my  friends  must  have  been  killed." 

Whilst  at  Charleston,  waiting  for  a  vessel,  he  received 
many  inspiring  letters  from  his  Boston  friends,  informing 
him  of  the  amazing  progress  of  conversion  in  the  city,  and 
throughout  the  province.  He  received,  also,  a  copy  of  the 
following  letter : — 


188         whitefield's   life   and   times. 

"To  all  and  singular,  the  constables  of  Charleston. — 
Whkrias,  I  have  received  information  on  oath,  that  George 
"Whitefield,  clerk,  hath  made  and  composed  a  false,  malicious, 
scandalous,  and  infamous  libi^l  against  the  clergy  of  this  pro- 
vince, in  contempt  of  his  Majesty,  and  his  laws,  and  against 
the  king's  peace  ; — These  are,  therefore,  in  his  Majesty's 
name,  to  charge  and  command  you  and  each  of  you,  forth- 
with, to  apprehend  the  said  George  Whitefield,  and  bring 
him  before  me,  &c.  &c.  &c.  Given  under  my  hand  and  seal, 
B.  W." 

This  mandate  referred  to  a  Letter,  which  Whitefield  had 
only  revised  for  the  press.  It  was  written  by  one  of  his 
friends,  and  had  just  come  out  on  his  arrival  at  Charleston. 
The  writer  was  apprehended,  and  meanly  (Whitefield  says, 
"frankly,")  confessed,  that  "  corrections  and  alterations"  had 
been  made  by  Whitefield. 

I  have  not  seen  the  Letter.  Whitefield's  account  of  it  is, 
that  "it  hinted  that  the  clergy  break  the  canons."  If  this 
was  all,  he  might  well  write  with  emphasis  in  his  diary,  "  I 
think  this  may  be  called  persecution  !  I  think  it  is  for  righte- 
ousness' sake." 

He  went  before  the  magistrate  at  once,  and  gave  security 
for  appearing,  by  attorney,  under  a  penalty  of  £100,  pro- 
clamation money.  He  became  his  own  attorney,  however,  be- 
fore he  left.  Even  next  day,  he  preached  in  the  morning 
upon  Herod's  stratagem  to  kill  Christ:  in  the  afternoon  on 
the  murder  of  Naboth.  That  he  did  not  spare  the  persecutors, 
is  evident.  "  My  hearers,"  he  says,  "  as  well  as  myself, 
made  application.  It  was  pretty  close.  I  especially  directed 
my  discourse  to  men  in  authority,  and  showed  them  the  hei- 
nous sin  of  abusing  their  power."  Neither  the  commissary, 
nor  the  magistrate,  slept  on  a  bed  of  roses  that  night.  Public 
opinion  was  against  them.  The  people  so  overloaded  him 
with  sea-stores  for  his  voyage,  that  he  had  to  send  much  of  the 
stock  to  Savannah.  Next  day,  January  15th,  he  embarked 
for  England,  on  board  the  Minerva,  and  arrived  at  Falmouth 
early  in  March.  On  the  Sabbath  following,  he  was  again  on 
Kennington  Common — but  with  "  not  above  a  hundred"  to 
hear  him. 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         189 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

WHITEFIELD'S     BREACH     WITH     WESLEY. 

Whitefield's  absence  from  London  extended  from  August, 
173D,  to  March,  1741  ;  during  which,  as  we  have  seen,  he 
founded  his  orphan-house,  traversed  America  with  varied  suc- 
cess, and  revived  the  revivalists  of  Northampton,  as  well  as 
caught  the  spirit  of  Jonathan  Edwards  and  the  old  puritans  of 
New  England. 

On  his  return,  he  soon  found  occasion  for  all  the  faith  and 
patience  he  had  acquired  in  America.  They  were  both  tried 
to  the  utmost,  for  a  time.  His  own  account  of  the  new  and 
unexpected  situation  he  found  himself  in,  is  very  touching. 
"  What  a  trying  scene  appeared  here  !  In  my  zeal,  during  my 
journey  through  America,  I  had  written  two  well-meant, 
though  ill-judged,  letters,  against  England's  two  great  favour- 
ites, '  The  whole  Duty  of  Man,'  and  Archbishop  Tillotson, 
who,  I  said,  knew  no  more  about  religion  than  Mahomet. 
The  Moravians  had  made  inroads  on  our  societies.  Mr. 
John  Wesley,  some  way  or  other,  had  been  prevailed  on  to 
preach  and  print  in  favour  of  perfection  and  universal  redemp- 
tion; and  against  election,  a  doctrine  which,  I  then  thought, 
and  do  now  believe,  was  taught  me  of  God  ;  and  therefore 
could  not  possibly  recede  from. 

"  Thinking  it  my  duty  so  to  do,  I  had  written  an  answer  at 
the  orphan-house,  which,  though  revised  and  much  approved 
by  some  good  divines,  had  I  think  some  too  strong  expres- 
sions about  absolute  reprobation,  which  the  apostle  leaves 
rather  to  be  inferred  than  expressed.  The  world  was  angry 
at  me  for  the  former,  and  numbers  of  my  own  spiritual  chil- 
dren for  the  latter. 

"  One  that  got  some  hundreds  of  pounds  by  my  sermons, 
refused  to  print  for  me  any  more.  And  others  wrote  to  me, 
that  God  would  destroy  me  in  a  fortnight,  and  that  my  foil  was 
as  great  as  Peter's.  Instead  of  having  thousands  to  attend 
me,  scarce  one  of  my  spiritual  children  came  to  see  me  from 


190  whitefield's   life   and   times. 

morning  to  night.     Once  on  Kennington  Common  I  had  not 
above  a  hundred  to  hear  me. 

"  At  the  .same  time,  I  was  much  embarrassed  in  my  out- 
ward circumstances.  A  thousand  pounds  I  owed  for  the 
orphan-house.  Two  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  bills  drawn  on 
Mr.  Seward,  were  returned  upon  me.  I  was  also  threatened 
to  be  arrested  for  two  hundred  pounds  more.  My  travelling 
expenses  also  to  be  defrayed.  A  family  of  a  hundred  to  be 
daily  maintained,  four  thousand  miles  off,  in  the  dearest  place 
of  the  king's  dominions. 

"  Ten  thousand  times  would  I  rather  have  died  than  part 
with  my  old  friends.  It  would  have  melted  any  heart,  to  have 
heard  Mr.  Charles  Wesley  and  me  weeping,  after  prayer, 
that,  if  possible,  the  breach  might  be  prevented.  Once,  but 
no  more,  I  preached  in  the  Foundry,  a  place  which  Mr. 
John  Wesley  had  procured  in  my  absence.  All  my  work 
was  to  begin  again. 

"  Never  had  I  preached  in  Moorfields  on  a  week  day  :  but 
in  the  strength  of  God,  I  began  on  Good  Friday,  and  con- 
tinued twice  a  day,  walking  backward  and  forward  from 
Leadenhall,  for  some  time  preaching  under  one  of  the  trees; 
and  had  the  mortification  to  see  numbers  of  my  spiritual 
children,  who  but  a  twelvemonth  ago  would  have  plucked  out 
their  eyes  for  me,  running  by  me  whilst  preaching,  disdaining 
so  much  as  to  look  at  me  ;  and  some  of  them  putting 
their  fingers  in  their  ears,  that  they  might  not  hear  one  word 
I  said. 

"  A  like  scene  opened  at  Bristol,  where  I  was  denied 
preaching  in  the  house  I  had  founded. 

"  Rusybodies  on  both  sides  blew  up  the  coals.  A  breach 
ensued.  But  as  both  sides  differed  in  judgment,  not  in  affec- 
tion, and  aimed  at  the  glory  of  our  common  Lord,  (though 
we  hearkened  too  much  to  tale-bearers  on  both  sides,)  we 
were  kept  from  anathematizing  each  other,  and  went  on  in 
our  usual  way;  being  agreed  in  one  point,  endeavouring  to 
convert  souls  to  the  ever-blessed  Mediator." 

Gillies  records  all  this  without  comment  or  explanation. 
Watson,  in  his  "  Life  of  Wesley,''  sums  up  the  whole  history 
of  the  breach  in  a  single  paragraph.  Southey  explains  the 
real  grounds  of  the  rupture,  but  with  equal  contempt  for  Wes- 
ley's doctrine  of  perfection,  and  for  Whitefield's  doctrine  of 
election.  The  separation  of  Whitefield  and  Wesley  led, 
however,  to  results  too  momentous  to  be  thus  treated.  Whilst, 


whitefield's   life   and   times.         191 

therefore,  I  have  no  inclination  to  revive  controversies,  which 
time  has  laid  asleep,  nor  to  perpetuate  painful  recollections  of 
good  men,  I  must  register  instructive  facts,  however  offensive 
they  may  be  to  the  adherents  of  Calvinistic  or  Wesleyan  me- 
thodism.  The  breach  between  their  founders  may  well  teach 
a  solemn  lesson  to  both. 

Neither  Whitefield  nor  Wesley  appears  to  have  understood 
Calvinism,  when  they  began  to  preach,  the  one  for  and  the 
other  against  it.  Indeed,  Whitefield  assured  Wesley,  when 
they  began  to  differ,  that  he  had  never  read  a  page  of  Calvin; 
and  if  Wesley  read  him  through  the  same  spectacles  he  wore 
when  reading  the  works  of  Calvinists, — of  whom  he  wrote 
thus  to  Whitefield,  "  No  baptist  or  presbyterian  writer,  I  have 
read,  knew  any  thing  of  the  liberties  of  Christ," — his  know- 
ledge of  the  question  may  well  be  doubted.  Whitefield's  re- 
tort on  this  occasion,  although  sharp,  was  not  uncourteous : 
"  What!  neither  Bunyan,  Henry,  Flavel,  Halyburton,  nor 
any  of  the  New  England  and  Scots  divines,  (know  any  thing 
of  the  liberties  of  Christ?)  See,  dear  sir,  what  narrow-spirit- 
edness  and  want  of  charity  arise  out  of  your  principles  ;  and 
then  do  not  cry  out  against  election  any  more,  on  account  of 
its  being  destructive  of  meekness  and  love."  Answer  to 
Wesley's  Sermon  on  Free  Grace. 

The  sermon  which  led  to  this  controversy  had  a  curious 
origin.  The  Wesleys  had  threatened  (perhaps  playfully  at 
first)  to  "  drive  John  Calvin  out  of  Bristol."  This  led  some 
one  to  charge  Wesley,  in  a  letter,  with  not  preaching  the  gos- 
pel— because  he  did  not  preach  up  election  ;  a  charge  which, 
at  the  time,  was  equally  applicable  to  Whitefield:  for  although 
his  creed  was  somewhat  Calvinistic  from  the  first,  he  did  not 
preach  up  election,  until  Wesley  began  to  preach  it  down. 
This  is  no  conjecture.  He  appeals  to  Wesley  himself  thus  : 
"  For  Christ's  sake,  if  possible,  dear  sir,  never  speak  against 
election  in  your  sermons  ;  no  one  can  say — that  I  ever  men- 
tioned it  in  public  discourses,  whatever  my  private  sentiments 
may  be.  For  Christ's  sake,  let  us  not  be  divided  amongst 
ourselves.  Nothing  will  so  much  prevent  a  division,  as  your 
being  silent  on  that  head." 

Wesley  met  this  solemn  adjuration,  and  many  like  it,  by  the 
mock  solemnity  of  "  drawing  lots,"  to  determine  the  ques- 
tion of  silence  or  assault.  The  lot  was,  "  preach  and  print;  " 
and  he  did  both  forthwith.  He  did  not  publish,  however, 
until  Whitefield  had  gone  to  America.     So  far  he  yielded  to 


192        whitefield's  life   and  times. 

his  friend's  remonstrances,   contenting  himself,  for   a  time, 
with  calling  election  a  "  doctrine  of  devils." 

This  sortilege  was  practised  at  Bristol ;  and  it  reminded 
Whitefield  of  "  the  wrong  lot,"  which  Wesley  had  formerly 
drawn,  when  their  vessels  were  in  sight  in  the  Channel.  Ac- 
cordingly, in  answering  the  lot-sermon,  Whitefield  told  the 
story  of  the  lot-letter.  He  has  been  much  blamed  for  pub- 
lishing this  private  transaction.  Indeed,  he  blames  himself 
heavily.  It  was  done  with  compunction  at  the  time ;  and 
afterwards,  he  thus  deplored  it :  "  My  mentioning  Mr.  Wes- 
ley's casting  a  lot  on  a  private  occasion,  known  only  to  God 
and  ourselves,  has  put  me  to  great  pain.  It  was  wrong  in  me 
to  publish  a  private  transaction  to  the  world  ;  and  very  ill- 
judged  to  think  the  glory  of  God  could  be  promoted  by  ex- 
posing my  friend  unnecessarily.  For  this  1  have  asked  both 
God  and  him  pardon,  years  ago.  And  though  I  believe  both 
have  forgiven  me,  yet  I  believe  I  shall  never  be  able  to  for- 
give myself.  As  it  was  a  public  fault,  I  think  it  should  be 
publicly  acknowledged  ;  and  I  thank  a  kind  Providence  for 
giving  me  this  opportunity  of  doing  it."  Answer  to  Lavington. 
Dr.  Southey  says  truly,  that  this  manner  of  referring  to  the 
subject  does  Whitefield  "  honour."  I  feel  thi3 :  and  yet,  unless 
Wesley's  feelings  were  very  much  wounded  by  the  disclosure, 
I  do  not  see  the  necessity  of  so  much  self-condemnation  and 
self-abasement.  For  my  own  part,  at  least,  I  should  have 
preferred  either  more,  or  less,  confession  on  the  occasion. — 
Whitefield  played  at  sortilege  as  well  as  Wesley,  although  in 
another  way.  His  Letter  was  not  like  the  sermon,  written 
in  obedience  to  a  drawn  lot ;  but  still,  it  was  determined  by 
a  mystic  reason.  He  says,  "  I  am  apt  to  think  one  reason 
why  God  should  so  suffer  you  to  be  deceived  was,  that  hereby 
a  special  obligation  should  be  laid  on  me,  faithfully  to  declare 
the  Scriptural  doctrine  of  election."  What  is  this,  but  im- 
pulse versus  lot?  For,  at  the  time,  Whitefield  was  incapable 
of  declaring  that  doctrine  faithfully,  if  he  mean  by  faithfully, 
Scripturally.  This  he  proved,  by  declaring  in  his  Letter,  that 
"  without  doubt,  the  doctrine  of  election  and  reprobation  must 
stand  or  fall  together  :  "  a  fallacy  he  soon  saw  through.  A 
lot  to  preach  against  election  could  not  be  a  greater  fallacy, 
than  a  "  special  "  call  to  contend  for  reprobation.  Well  might 
Wesley,  if  he  had  understood  the  sovereignty  of  grace,  have 
retorted  on  Whitefield  :  he  contented  himself,  however,  with 
tearing  the  Letter  before  his  congregation.  "  '  I  will  just  do 
what  I  believe  Mr.  Whitefield  would,  were  he  here  himself: ' 


\V  II  ITEFI  ELD'S      LIFE     AND      TIMES.  193 

he  tore  it  in  pieces.  Every  person  present  followed  his  ex- 
ample."     Sout/iey's  Wesley. 

Who  else  believes — that  Whitefield  would  have  thus  torn 
his  own  Letter?  None  but  those  who  believe  that  Wesley 
would  have  torn  his  "lot,"  when  he  drew  it.  Wbitefield 
might,  indeed,  have  torn  the  printed  copy,  because  it  was 
printed  without  his  consent,  and  published  in  his  absence,  by 
officious  friends  ;  but,  in  the  sense  of  retracting  it,  he  would 
no  more  have  torn  it  than  he  would  have  torn  the  Thirty-nine 
Articles.  It  was  a  pitiful  pretence,  although  a  dexterous  shift, 
to  say  that  he  would  have  been  his  own  executioner.  He  was 
quite  capable  of  tearing  Wesley's  "  lot,"  had  that  been  sur- 
reptitiously thrust  upon  his  friends,  to  bias  their  judgment ; 
for  he  was  as  off-hand  as  he  was  warm  and  honest,  whenever 
he  deemed  the  honour  of  God  at  stake. 

It  is  because  I  never  heard  that  Wesley  humbled  himself  at 
all  for  this  summary  and  insulting  treatment  of  the  Letter,  that 
I  think  Whitefield  too  humble  for  his  treatment  of  the  lot.  I 
think  with  Dr.  Southey,  that  it  M  does  him  honour  ;  "  but  as 
Wesley  was  evidently  more  mortified  than  hurt  by  the  disclo- 
sure, and  as  he  amply  retaliated,  I  do  not  see  where  the  dis- 
honour would  have  been,  had  the  humiliation  been  less. 
Whitefield  had  not  published  the  Letter,  nor  was  he  aware  of 
its  publication.  Dr.  Southey  is  quite  correct  in  saying,  that, 
although  it  was  certainly  intended  for  publication,  yet  "  there 
seems  to  have  been  a  hope  in  Whitefield's  mind,  that  the  effect 
which  its  perusal  would  produce  might  render  publication 
needless."  Thus  Wesley  might  have  taken  the  sting  out  of 
it,  by  humbling  himself  for  drawing  lots  ;  but  as  he  did  not 
tear  his  lot  along  with  the  Letter,  it  was  not  very  unfair  to  let 
the  world  know  something  of  the  secret  of  his  attack  on  Cal- 
vinism. Indeed,  I  doubt  if  it  would  have  been  honest  to  the 
public,  or  fair  to  the  cause  of  truth,  to  have  concealed  this 
process  of  sortilege  altogether.  1  do  not  even  see  how 
Whitefield  could  have  dealt  so  gently  with  Wesley,  as  by 
simply  stating  the  facts.  He  could  not  forget  in  answering 
the  sermon,  that  the  author  of  it  believed  himself  divinely 
warranted  to  publish  it.  That  supposed  warrant  had  to  be  in- 
validated. By  what  ?  If  not  by  facts,  who  does  not  see  that 
arguments  would  have  implied  heavier  reflections  upon  Wes- 
ley's judgment,  and  subjected  him  to  the  suspicion  of  a  pre- 
sumption worse  than  that  of  the  old  lottery  ? 

This  transaction  was  made  so  much  of  at  the  time,  that  I 
17 


194     whitefield's    life    and    times. 

could  not,  as  an  historian,  hush  it  up  ;  nor  as  an  umpire, 
treat  it  as  Whitefield  has  done.  It  roused,  as  may  be  sup- 
posed, the  partizans  of  the  two  creeds  ;  and  created  that 
alienation  which  Whitefield  has  so  feelingly  described,  in  his 
account  of  the  reception  he  met  with  on  his  return  from 
America. 

Some  of  the  Calvinistic  party  were  very  imprudent.  Acourt, 
of  London,  thrust  himself  and  his  high  Calvinism  upon  the 
Wesley's  meetings  ;  demanding  the  opportunity  of  setting 
them  right  on  the  subject  of  election  ;  and  prophesying,  when 
refused,  that  his  proclamation  of  them  as  false  prophets, 
would  throw  them  all  into  confusion.  At  Kingswood  also, 
Cennick  divided  the  society,  and  headed  the  Calvinists 
against  the  Wesleys.  Dr.  Southey  calls  him  "  a  certain 
John  Cennick,"  "  who  had  great  talents  for  popular  speak- 
ing ; "  and  gives  only  Charles  Wesley's  picture  of  him. 
Cennick  was  both  a  wiser  and  a  better  man  than  the  Wesleys 
painted  him,  when  he  withstood  them  to  the  face  at  Kings- 
wood.  Until  then,  John  Wesley  held  him  a  friend,  as  his 
"  own  soul,"  and  one  who  "  lay  in  his  bosom."  Charles 
Wesley  confirms  this  by  an  appeal  to  Cennick's  knowledge  of 
it:  "I  need  not  say  how  well  he  loved  you."  It  was  not  be- 
cause this  love  was  too  hot,  that  it  did  not  last.  Charles  up- 
braided him  for  ingratitude  and  treachery,  and  John  excom- 
municated him,  with  others,  for  lying  and  slandering,  thus : — 
"I,  John  Wesley,  by  the  consent  and  approbation  of  the  Band 
Society  in  Kingswood,  do  declare  the  persons  above  mention- 
ed to  be  no  longer  members  thereof.  Neither  will  they  be 
so  accounted  until  they  shall  openly  confess  their  fault,"  &c. 
&c.  What  was  this  tremendous  fault  1  "  Dissembling,  ly- 
ing, and  slandering,"  says  the  excommunicator.  "  Ingrati- 
tude and  treachery,"  says  his  brother.  Heavy  charges,  it 
must  be  allowed  ;  and  if  true,  well  deserving  all  the  chas- 
tisement they  met  with. 

The  truth  of  the  charges,  as  they  affect  Cennick,  the  friend 
and  fellow-labourer  of  Whitefield,  must  be  examined.  Hap- 
pily, this  is  easily  done  ;  for  Wesley  rested  the  proof  of  "  pri- 
vate accusations  "  upon  the  copy  of  a  letter  from  Cennick  to 
Whitefield.  When  Cennick  denied  that  he  had  "  ever  pri- 
vately accused  him,"  Wesley  produced  the  letter  in  the  soci- 
ety, and  said,  "Judge,  brethren!  "  So  say  I.  Here  is  the 
letter. — M  I  sit  solitary  like  Eli,  waiting  what  will  become  of 
the  ark  ;  and  while  I  wail  and  fear  the  carrying  of  it  away 


WHITEFIELD     S     LIFE     AND     TIMES.  195 

from  among  my  people,  my  trouble  increases  daily.  How 
glorious  did  the  gospel  seem  once  to  flourish  at  Kingswood  ! 
I  spake  of  the  everlasting  love  of  Christ  with  sweet  power. 
But  now,  brother  Charles  is  suffered  to  open  his  mouth  against 
this  truth,  while  the  frighted  sheep  gaze  and  fly,  as  if  no  shep- 
herd was  amongst  them.  It  is  just  as  if  Satan  was  now 
making  war  on  the  saints,  in  a  more  than  common  way.  O, 
pray  for  the  distressed  lambs  yet  left  in  this  place,  that  they 
faint  not.  Surely  they  would,  for  they  have  nothing  whereon 
to  rest  but  their  own  faithfulness,  who  now  attend  on  sermons. 
With  universal  redemption,  brother  Charles  now  pleases  the 
world.  Brother  John  follows  him  in  every  thing.  I  believe 
no  atheist  can  more  preach  against  predestination  than  they  : 
and  all  who  believe  election  are  counted  enemies  to  God,  and 
called  so.  Fly,  dear  brother  ! — I  am  as  alone. — I  am  in  the 
midst  of  the  plague.  If  God  give  thee  leave — make  haste  !  " 
Now,  where  is  the  lie,  or  the  slander,  in  all  this  ?  No 
where,  except  it  be  in  the  charge,  that  "  all  who  believe  elec- 
tion are  counted  enemies  to  God,  and  called  so."  And  even 
this  charge,  although  not  literally,  is  substantially,  true.  For 
although  neither  John  nor  Charles  would  have  called  any  good 
man,  who  let  them  alone,  an  enemy  of  God,  for  believing 
election,  both  would  and  must  have  counted  the  very  best 
man  such,  so  far  as  he  tried  to  spread  the  doctrine  of  election 
at  the  Foundry,  or  at  Kingswood.  How  could  they  reckon 
otherwise,  whilst  they  held  themselves  to  be  the  friends  of 
God,  by  enmity  to  Calvinism  ]  Their  forbearance  with  the 
silent  Calvinists  in  the  society,  was  because  they  were 
silent. 

I  am  no  admirer  of  Cennick's  letter.  I  think  the  style  and 
spirit  of  it  quite  as  bad  as  Wesley's  sermon  ;  which  affirms, 
that  the  doctrine  in  question  "  directly  tends  to  destroy  that 
holiness  which  is  the  end  of  all  the  ordinances  of  God  ;  " 
and  has  "  a  direct  and  manifest  tendency  to  overthrow  the 
whole  Christian  religion."  The  only  difference  between  this 
railing  and  that  of  Cennick,  is,  that  Cennick's  is  applied  to 
two  men  by  name,  and  Wesley's  is  an  attack  upon  all  men 
who  preached  the  doctrine. 

This  is  not,  however,  the  whole  case.  The  chief  charge 
against  Cennick  is,  that  he  "  supplanted"  Wesley  "in  his  own 
house  ;  stealing  the  hearts  of  the  people  "  from  him.  This 
asserted  betrayal  of  trust,  Charles  depicted  in  the  darkest 
colours.     Now  it  is  true,  that  Wesley  placed  Cennick  as  one 


196         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

of  the  masters  in  the  Kingswood  school  ;  and  true,  that  the 
school  was  Wesley's  "own  house,"  in  the  sense  of  its  being 
chiefly  built  and  furnished  by  him.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is 
equally  true,  that  Whitefield  originated  the  school  ;  obtained 
the  gift  of  "a  piece  of  ground  for  it ;  "  laid  the  foundation- 
stone  of  it ;  and  collected  so  much  money  for  it,  that  "  the 
roof  was  ready  to  be  put  up  "  before  he  left  England.  How- 
ever truly,  therefore,  in  a  legal  sense,  it  was  Wesley's  "  own 
house,"  inasmuch  as  he  alone  was  responsible  for  all  the  debt 
upon  it,  and  thus  the  possessor  of  the  deeds  ;  it  was  morally 
Whitefield's  own  house  too.  Accordingly,  Wesley  bequeath- 
ed it  to  his  brother  and  Whitefield  by  will,  the  moment  the  re- 
sponsibility devolved  the  property  on  him. 

Cennick  was  not  ignorant  of  these  facts,  and  ought  not  to 
have  been  uninfluenced  by  them.  He  was,  indeed,  Wesley's 
servant;  but  he  was  also  a  conscientious  Calvinist.  "Why, 
then,  did  he  not  resign,"  says  Charles,  "rather  than  gainsay" 
his  employer?  Why,  I  ask,  did  his  employer  undertake  the 
completion  of  Whitefield's  school,  and  then  turn  it  into  an 
Arminian  nursery,  in  Whitefield's  absence  ?  The  servant  did 
all  he  could  to  sustain  the  views  of  its  founder,  in  the  absence 
of  its  finisher ;  and  the  finisher  did  all  he  could  to  supplant 
the  Calvinistic  views  of  its  absent  founder.  Whitefield  never 
would  have  left  it  to  Wesley  to  carry  forward,  had  this  design 
been  avowed.  Cennick  knew  this  ;  and  therefore  he  was  just 
as  conscientious  in  opposing  Arminianism  in  the  place,  as 
Wesley  in  opposing  Calvinism  in  it.  In  a  word,  if  the  one 
alienated  some  hearts  from  Wesley,  the  other  alienated  many 
hearts  from  Whitefield.  "  I  was  denied  preaching  in  the 
house  I  had  founded  at  Bristol,"  says  Whitefield. 

These  are,  indeed,  pitiful  transactions  on  both  sides  :  but 
they  were  the  transactions  which  brought  on  the  rupture  of 
the  societies  ;  and  are  thus  essential  to  its  explanation.  Cen- 
nick also,  as  the  chosen  coadjutor  of  Whitefield  afterwards, 
deserved  vindication  from  the  bitter  invectives  and  aspersions 
of  Charles  Wesley's  letter,  and  from  the  ecclesiastical  ban 
of  John  Wesley  and  the  "  Band  Society  in  Kingswood."  On 
reviewing  his  character  and  career,  the  late  Mr.  WilUs,  of  the 
Tabernacle,  exclaimed,  "  0  my  soul,  come  thou  into  his 
secret ;  into  his  assembly,  mine  honour,  be  thou  united  !  " 
He  says  of  Cennick,  "As  to  success  in  his  labours,  perhaps 
there  was  not  one  in  his  day,  except  Whitefield,  more  highly 
honoured  in  this  particular.     His  language  was  not  with  the 


WHITEFI  ELD'S      LIFE     AND      TIMES.  197 

enticing  words  of  men's  wisdom  ;  yet  his  doctrine  and  ad- 
dress were  powerful  and  found  access  to  the  hearts  of  thou- 
sands. His  career  was  short ;  but  if  life  may  be  estimated 
by  the  comparative  quantity  of  good  produced  in  it,  then  this 
truly  active,  spiritual,  and  useful  man,  may  be  said  to  have 
lived  to  a  good  old  age.  A  good  understanding,  an  open 
temper,  and  tender  heart,  characterized  the  man.  His  Chris- 
tian qualities  were  not  less  distinguishable.  If  unaffected 
humility,  deadness  to  the  world,  a  life  of  communion  with 
God,  and  a  cheerful  reliance  on  a  crucified  Saviour,  consti- 
tute the  real  Christian, — he  was  one  in  an  eminent  degree. 
He  possessed  a  sweet  simplicity  of  spirit,  with  an  ardent  zeal 
in  the  cause  of  his  divine  Master."  Preface  to  CennicWs 
Sermons,  2  vols,  by  Matthew  Wilks. 

Cennick's  own  account  of  his  expulsion  by  the  Wesleys,  is 
highly  creditable  to  his  heart ;  and  as  it  palliates  very  much 
the  conduct  of  Mr.  Wesley,  and  is  not  much  known,  (the 
pamphlet  being  rare,)  I  gladly  insert  it.  It  is  the  44th  Sec- 
tion of  a  Life  of  Cennick,  written  by  himself,  4th  Edition. 
"About  Christmas,  1740,  a  difference  in  doctrine  broke  out 
between  the  Mr.  Wesleys  and  me  ;  they  believed  and  taught 
many  things  which  I  thought  not  according  to  the  gospel,  nei- 
ther to  mine  own  experience  :  and  in  a  very  little  time,  while  I 
was  preaching  in  several  parts  of  Wiltshire,  Mr.  John  Wes- 
ley took  the  entire  possession  of  Kingswood  school,  and  Iwas 
forbid  to  preach  there  any  more  ;  neither  from  that  time  did  I. 
And  not  long  after,  when  I  and  some  of  the  colliers  had  met 
apart  to  consider  on  these  things,  and  to  lay  them  before  the 
Lord,  the  rest  of  the  society,  who  held  Mr.  Wesley's  doc- 
trines, were  so  offended — that  they  would  not  let  Mr.  Wesley 
rest,  till  he  put  me,  and  those  few  who  believed  my  word,  out 
of  the  society ; — though,  I  believe,  against  his  will.  When 
we  separated,  we  were  in  number  twelve  men  and  twelve 
women.  In  a  short  time,  we  so  increased  our  company,  that 
we  were  about  a  hundred  and  twenty.  In  many  villages  of 
Wiltshire,  the  word  was  received  gladly."  To  them  "  the 
differences  were  never  once  known,  till  Mr.  Whitefield  came 
from  America,  and  joined  the  brethren  with  me  ;  neither  after 
they  knew  it,  (the  difference,)  did  it  make  any  stir,  as  it  were, 
in  all  that  country." 

The  breach  between  Whitefield  and  Wesley  led,  soon,  to 
the  erection  of  a  new  house  at  Kingswood,  and  of  "  a  large 
temporary  shed,"  called  a  Tabernacle,  in  London.     The  lat- 

17* 


198        whitefield's   life   and  times. 

ter  was  built  by  "  certain  free-grace  dissenters,"  as  Gillies 
calls  them.  This  phrase  does  not  enable  us  to  identify  them 
with  any  of  the  three  denominations.  Perhaps  it  refers  to 
W  hitefield's  definition  of  "  free  grace  indeed,"  in  his  Letter 
to  Wesley : — "free,  because  not  free  to  all;  but  free,  be- 
cause God  may  withhold  or  give  it  to  whom,  and  when,  he 
pleases."  But  whoever  the  dissenters  thus  characterized 
were,  their  timely  help  soon  enabU  d  him  to  turn  the  tide, 
which  had  set  in  against  him.  It  realized  for  him,  what  had 
much  refreshed  him,  when  all  his  work  was  to  "  begin  again," 
Beza's  hint  in  the  life  of  Calvin  ;  "  Calvin  is  turned  out  of 
Geneva;  but,  behold,  a  new  church  arises!"  Dr.  Gillies 
says,  "A  fresh  awakening  immediately  began.  Congrega- 
tions grew  exceedingly  large  :  and,  at  the  jjeipWs  desire,  he 
sent  for  Messrs.  Cennick,  Harris,  Scagrave,  Humphries, 
&c,  to  assist."  In  the  country  also,  and  especially  in  Essex, 
(first  at  Braintree,)  the  old  scene  of  "  multitudes,  multitudes 
in  the  valley  of  decision,"  began  to  be  renewed.  And  it  was 
with  no  ordinary  pleasure  he  then  visited  the  many  towns  in 
Essex  and  Suffolk,  such  as  Dedham,  Halstead,  Ipswich,  &c, 
from  which  the  pilgrim  fathers  of  New  England  came ;  and 
the  counterparts  of  which  he  had  found  in  America,  perpetuat- 
ing there  the  names  and  recollections  of  the  mother  country. 

I  know  of  few  studies  so  fraught  and  fragrant  with  delight, 
now  that  we  know  New  England,  as  tracing  in  Malher's 
"  Magnalia,"  upon  his  old  maps,  the  first  American  edition  of 
Old  England.  I  shall  never  forget  how  sacred  I  felt  that 
line  of  English  towns  to  be,  when  I  visited  them,  as  the  anti- 
types of  the  Magnalian  maps ;  nor  the  interest  taken  by  the 
old  families  of  the  district,  whilst  I  pointed  out  to  them  the 
coincidences,  and  congratulated  them  on  the  connexion.  I 
myself,  indeed,  would  not  pass  over  Runnymede,  to  visit  the 
cradles  of  the  pilgrim  fathers  ;  but  no  American  Christian 
ought  to  visit  Runnymede,  until  he  has  been  at  Dedham,  if 
he  love  his  country. 

Whitefield's  momentary  reverses  in  London  did  not,  as 
may  be  supposed,  at  all  lessen  his  fame  in  Scotland,  nor  pre- 
vent the  Erskines  from  urging  upon  him  his  promise  to  visit 
that  country.  There,  the  Wesleys  were  considered  as  sadly 
"  left  to  themselves,"  (E.  Erskine,)  if  not  as  somewhat  de- 
mented, when  they  quarrelled  with  Whitefield's  Calvinism,  and 
avowed  themselves  Arminians.  There  was  also  more  than 
enough  in  Scotland  then,  of  an  Arminianism  not  redeemed, 


whitefield's   life   and   times.         199 

like  that  of  the  Wesleys,  hy  holy  zeal  or  sterling  piety,  to  ren- 
der an  eloquent  Calvinjst  a  welcome  visitor  to  the  godly 
ministers  of  both  the  kirk  and  secession.  Had  Whitefield, 
therefore,  wanted  other  letters  of  commendation  to  them,  than 
his  own  character  and  fame  ;  or  needed  any  thing  to  confirm 
the  confidence  he  had  won  by  his  own  letters  and  journals ; 
his  rejection  at  the  Foundry  would  have  secured  him  a  wel- 
come both  at  Dunfermline  and  in  Edinburgh. 

This  he  found  on  his  arrival  :  but,  lest  his  old  and  still 
dear  friend,  Wesley,  should  suspect  him  of  accepting  any 
honour  at  his  expense,  he  renewed  his  correspondence  with 
him,  when  his  honours  in  Scotland  were  at  their  height.  The 
following  letter  from  Aberdeen  is  delightful:  "Reverend  and 
dear  brother,  I  have  for  a  long  time  expected  that  you  would 
have  sent  an  answer  to  my  last ;  but  I  suppose  you  are  afraid 
to  correspond  with  me,  because  I  revealed  your  secret  about 
the  lot.  Though  much  might  be  said  for  my  doing  it,  yet  1  am 
sorry  now,  that  any  such  thing  dropped  from  my  pen, — and  I 
humbly  ask  pardon.  I  find  I  love  you  as  much  as  ever;  and 
pray  God,  if  it  be  his  blessed  will,  that  we  may  all  be  united 
together. 

"  It  hath  been  for  some  days  upon  my  heart  to  write  to 
you.  May  God  remove  all  obstacles  that  now  prevent  our 
union  !  Though  I  hold  particular  election — yet  I  offer  Jesus 
freely  to  every  individual  soul.  You  may  carry  sanctification 
to  whatever  degrees  you  will  ;  only  I  cannot  agree,  that  the 
in-being  of  sin  is  to  be  destroyed  in  this  life. 

"O  my  dear  brother,  the  Lord  has  been  much  with  me  in 
Scotland.  In  about  three  weeks  I  hope  to  be  at  Bristol. 
May  all  disputing  cease,  and  each  of  us  talk  of  nothing  but 
Jesus,  and  Him  crucified  !  This  is  my  resolution.  The  Lord 
be  with  your  spirit.  I  am,  without  dissimulation,  ever  yours." 
Lett.  363. 

The  only  letter  of  Wesley's  on  this  subject,  that  I  know  of, 
is  not  like  the  above.  It  concludes  thus:  "The  general 
tenor  both  of  my  public  and  private  exhortations,  when  I 
touch  thereon  at  all,  as  even  my  enemies  know,  if  they  would 
testify,  is, — '  Spare  the  young  man,  even  Absalom,  for  my 
sake.'"  Soirfhey's  Wesley.  This  is  David's  language,  but 
not  David's  spirit.  It  is  sarcasm,  more  than  sympathy  ;  as 
the  whole  strain  of  the  letter  shows.  Dr.  South'ey  justly  says, 
"Wesley  felt  more  resentment  than  he  here  thought  proper  to 
express."     Ibid.    Whitefield  had,  however,  been  as  dictator- 


200         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

ial  in  some  of  his  remonstrances,  at  the  beginning  of  the  con- 
troversy, as  Wesley  was  sarcastic  at  the  close.  On  one  oc- 
casion he  wrote  thus  :  "  Dear  brother  Wesley,  what  mean  you 
by  disputing  in  all  your  letters'?  May  God  give  you  to  know 
yourself, — and  then  you  will  not  plead  for  absolute  perfection, 
nor  call  election  a  doctrine  of  devils.  My  dear  brother,  take 
heed  !  See  that  you  are  in  Christ  a  new  creature.  Beware 
of  a  false  peace.  Remember  you  are  but  a  babe  in  Christ — 
if  so  much.  Be  humble.  Talk  little.  Pray  much.  If  you 
will  dispute,  stay  till  you  are  master  of  the  subject;  other- 
wise you  will  hurt  the  cause  you  would  defend."  Whatever 
truth  there  may  be  in  this  tirade,  it  is  more  than  defeated  by 
its  unhallowed  form.  Such  an  appeal  could  only  exasperate. 
Not,  however,  in  this  style  generally,  did  Whitefield  appeal 
to  his  brother  and  friend.  It  was  more  usual  to  him  to  write 
thus  :  "  Why  will  you  dispute  1  1  am  willing  to  go  with  you 
to  prison  and  death; — but  I  am  not  willing  to  oppose  you." 
"  Do  not  oblige  me  to  preach  against  you :  I  had  rather  die." 
"  Dear,  dear  sir,  0  be  not  offended !  For  Christ's  sake  be  not 
rash.  Give  yourself  to  reading.  Study  the  covenant  of 
grace.  Down  with  your  carnal  reasoning.  Be  a  little  child ; 
and  then,  instead  of  pawning  your  salvation,  as  you  have 
done,  in  a  late  Hymn  Book,  if  the  doctrine  of  universal  re- 
demption be  not  true,  you  will  compose  a  hymn  in  praise  of 
sovereign,  distinguishing  love. 

"  I  love  and  honour  you  for  Christ's  sake ;  and  when  I 
come  to  judgment — will  thank  you  before  men  and  angels 
for  what  you  have,  under  God,  done  for  my  soul.  There  I 
am  persuaded,  I  shall  see  dear  Mr.  Wesley  convinced  of  elec- 
tion and  everlasting  love.  And  it  often  fills  me  with  pleasure, 
to  think  how  I  shall  behold  you  casting  your  crown  at  the  feet 
of  the  Lamb — and,  as  it  were,  filled  with  a  holy  blushing  for 
opposing  the  divine  sovereignty  as  you  have  done.  But  I 
hope  the  Lord  will  show  you  this,  before  you  go  hence.  Oh 
how  do  I  long  for  that  day!"  (It  is  somewhat  amusing  to 
find  this  passage,  the  first  one  quoted  by  Dr.  Southey,  just 
after  his  declaration,  that  Whitefield's  '*  written  compositions 
are  nearly  worthless.") 

Having  given  these  specimens  of  the  spirit  of  both  parties 
in  this  breach,  it  is  only  bare  justice  to  Whitefield  to  state 
strongly  the  trying  circumstances  he  was  in,  when  Wesley 
cut  with  him.  Southey  truly  and  tenderly  says,  "  Many 
things  combined   to  sour  him   at  this   time."     Seward,   on 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         20 1 

whose  life  and  fortune  he  had  calculated  for  the  sake  of 
Georgia,  was  just  dead,  and  had  left  him  nothing.  He 
was  deeply  in  debt  for  the  orphan-house,  and  more  deeply 
pledged.  He  was  in  danger  of  being  arrested  every  day  for 
£450,  whilst  he  had  not  twenty  pounds  in  the  world,  and 
hardly  a  friend  to  help  him.  He  was  all  but  hissed  by  the 
multitude,  who  formerly  were  almost  ready  to  cry,  "Hosan- 
na,"  when  they  saw  him  in  the  streets.  His  heart  was  torn 
by  the  pressure  of  strife  at  home,  and  by  the  prospect  of  dis- 
tress abroad. 

Is  it  any  wonder  that  he  should  have  been  betrayed  into 
hasty,  and  even  some  harsh  reflections  upon  Wesley? 
Could  he  think  well  of  the  doctrine  of  "perfection?  whilst 
its  champion  and  adherents  were  so  imperfect,  as  to  leave  him 
to  sink  or  swim,  as  it  might  happen  1  True — he  had  given 
his  old  friend  great  provocation,  by  turning  the  laugh  against 
his  lottery  ;  and  all  men  resent  an  exposure  of  their  weakness 
more  than  an  injury  to  their  property  :  but  still,  Wesley  could 
have  afforded  to  wait,  whilst  Whitefield  was  in  danger  of  im- 
prisonment for  debt,  and  well  nigh  overwhelmed  with  disap- 
pointments. This  was  just  the  time  for  a  perfectionist  to 
"heap  coals  of  fire"  upon  the  head  of  an  enemy;  and  to 
pawn  something  upon  the  truth  of  universal  love,  as  well 
as  his  "salvation  upon  the  truth  of  universal  redemption." 
Whitefield  would  have  pawned  the  Foundry,  had  it  been  his, 
to  save  and  soothe  Wesley,  had  he  come  from  America,  em- 
barrassed and  bowed  down  with  care.  Who  does  not  see  and 
feel  this  I 

It  is  painful,  but  it  is  very  necessary,  to  place  the  matter  in 
this  light;  for,  if  the  faults  of  such  men  are  hushed  up,  such 
faults  will  be  repeated  and  perpetuated  by  men  who  have 
fewer  redeeming  qualities.  Future  quarrels  are  not  to  be 
prevented  by  forgetting  the  past.  It  is  by  seeing  how  un- 
seemly strife  between  great  brethren  is,  that  little  brethren 
learn  to  dread  its  beginnings.  He  is  throwing  back  the  pro- 
gress of  brotherly  love  in  the  church,  who  would  bury  in 
oblivion,  or  veil  in  vague  generalities,  the  "sharp  contention  " 
between  Whitefield  and  YVesley.  Like  Paul  and  Barnabas, 
they  can  afford  to  have  it  all  told,  without  sustaining  any  ma- 
terial loss  of  fame  or  influence.  They  are  just  the  men 
whose  faults  should  be  transmitted  to  posterity,  that  posterity 
may  not  glory  in  men,  nor  think  more  highly  of  them  than 
they  ought  to  think  ;    and  that  similar  men,  of  like  passions, 


202  "WHITEFI  ELD's     LIFE     AND    TIMES. 

may  not  run  into  like  extremes.  He  is  not,  therefore,  the 
best  friend  of  "  peace  on  earth,"  whatever  be  his  love  for 
Whitefield  or  Wesley,  who  would  throw  a  veil  over  the  rash- 
ness of  the  former,  or  over  the  selfishness  of  the  latter,  on  this 
occasion. 

Whitefield  was  rash.  He  listened  to  tale-bearers,  who  put 
the  worst  construction  upon  Wesley's  hard  words  against 
Calvinism,  and  harsh  treatment  of  the  Kingswood  Calvinists. 
He  rashly  promised  not  to  preach  against  him,  and  as  rashly 
threatened  to  oppose  him  every  where.  He  wept  with 
Charles,  and  scolded  John.  In  a  word,  they  were,  as  he  says, 
only  "  kept  from  anathematizing  each  other,"  for  a  time ; 
so  divided  were  they  in  judgment,  although  not  exactly  alien- 
ated in  affection. 

This  is,  indeed,  a  humiliating  exhibition :  but  how  full  of 
warning  it  is  !  The  oracle,  "  ye  are  brethren,"  which  had  so 
often  fallen  upon  their  ear  and  their  heart,  like  music  from 
heaven,  fell  unheeded  on  both,  for  a  time,  although  both  were 
absorbed  with  equal  zeal  for  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  salva- 
tion of  souls.  But  whilst  the  spirit  of  their  breach  was  thus 
deplorable,  it  is  impossible  to  deplore  the  breach  itself.  It  fell 
out  to  "  the  furtherance  of  the  gospel."  Wesley  foresaw  this, 
as  well  as  prayed  for  it :  "  The  case  is  quite  plain.  There 
are  bigots  both  for  and  against  predestination.  God  is 
sending  a  message  to  those  on  either  side  :  but  neither  will 
receive  it,  unless  from  one  who  is  of  their  own  opinion. 
Therefore,  for  a  time,  you  are  suffered  to  be  of  one  opinion, 
and  I  of  another."  Whitefield's  heart  responded  to  this,  al- 
though his  acuteness  did  not  discern  it  so  fully  :  "  The  great 
day  will  discover,  why  the  Lord  permits  dear  Mr.  Wesley  and 
me  to  be  of  a  different  way  of  thinking.  At  present,  I  shall 
make  no  inquiry  into  that  matter,  beyond  the  account  he  has 
given  of  it.  I  heartily  pray  God  to  hasten  the  time  when  we 
shall  be  closely  united  in  principle  and  judgment,  as  well  as  in 
heart  and  affection  :  and  then,  should  the  Lord  call  to  it, — I 
care  not  if  I  go  with  him  to  prison  or  to  death.  For,  like  Paul 
and  Silas,  I  hope  we  shall  sing  praises  to  God,  and  count  it 
our  highest  honour  to  suffer  for  Christ's  sake,  and  to  lay 
down  our  lives  for  the  brethren."  Preface  to  a  "Letter  to 
Wesley." 

An  earlier  day  than  "the  great  day"  discovered  why 
Wrhitefield  and  Wesley  were  permitted  both  to  differ  and  di- 
vide.    It  was  a  happy  thing  for  the  world  and  the  church  that 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         203 

they  were  not  of  one  opinion:  for,  had  they  been  united 
in  either  extreme,  truth  would  have  made  less  progress.  As 
joint  Arminians,  they  would  have  spread  Pelagianism  ;  and 
as  joint  Calvinists,  they  would  have  been  hyper,  though  not 
antinomian.  It  was  well,  therefore,  that  they  modified  each 
other:  for  they  were  "two  suns,"  which  could  not  have  fixed 
in 

"  one  meridian," 

without  setting  on  fire  the  whole  course  of  sound  theology.  In 
their  respective  spheres,  however,  they  were  equally  blessed, 
notwithstanding  the  difference  of  their  creeds  on  some  points. 
This  is  not  inexplicable,  when  it  is  remembered  that  they 
agreed  thoroughly  in  exalting  the  Saviour,  and  in  honouring 
the  Eternal  Spirit.  And  their  mode  of  honouring  the  Spirit 
deserves  particular  attention.  They  sought  and  cherished 
His  unction  for  themselves,  as  well  as  enforced  the  necessity 
of  His  operations  upon  others.  And  until  preaching  be,  itself, 
a" demonstration  of  the  Spirit  and  of  power,"  as  well  as  in 
humble  dependence  upon  the  Spirit,  its  effects  will  not  be  very 
great,  nor  remarkably  good.  It  will  win  but  few  souls  to  Christ, 
and  even  their  character  will  not,  in  general,  rise  high  in  the 
beauty  of  holiness,  nor  in  the  zeal  of  love.  They  may  just 
keep  their  name  and  their  place  in  the  church  of  the  living 
God ;  but  they  will  not  be  to  Him,  nor  to  his  church,  "  for  a 
name  and  an  everlasting  sign." 

There  is  much  more  connexion  between  the  piety  of  a 
church,  and  the  spirituality  of  its  minister,  than  appears  at 
first  sight ;  and  between  his  preaching,  and  the  conversion 
of  sinners,  than  is  usually  kept  in  view.  A  minister,  not 
spiritually-minded,  both  "  quenches  the  Spirit  on  the  altar  of 
renewed  hearts,  and  prevents  the  sacrec  fire  from  reaching 
the  altar  of  unregenerated  hearts.  He  who  is  not  "  a  sweet 
savour  of  Christ,"  makes  himself  "  a  savour  of  death  unto 
death,"  inevitably  : — of  the  second  death  to  the  undecided  ; 
and  of  spiritual  deadness  to  the  church. 

It  was  not  in  this  sense,  that  Paul  was  a  savour  of  both  life 
and  death,  during  his  ministry.  The  lost  made  him,  what  he 
became  to  them,  by  turning  into  death  the  very  truth  which 
quickened  the  saved :  for  it  was  the  same  fragrance  of  "  the 
knowledge  of  Christ,"  which  proved  the  savour  of  death  unto 
death  to  the  former,  that  proved  the  savour  of  life  unto  life  to 
the  latter.     Paul  did  as  much,  and  said  as  much,  and  prayed 


204       whitefield's    life    and    times. 

as  much,  and  all  in  the  same  spirit  too,  for  the  impenitent, 
as  for  the  considerate  ;  for  despisers,  as  for  penitents.  Both 
saw  and  heard  in  his  preaching  the  same  "  demonstration  of 
the  Spirit  and  of  power."  He  stood  before  each  class, 
equally  the  ambassador  of  Christ,  and  beseeching  both  alike 
to  be  reconciled  unto  God.  So  did  Baxter,  Edwards,  White- 
field,  and  the  VVesleys.  Whenever  they  were  the  savour  of 
death  unto  death,  they  were  made  so  by  those  who  perished 
under  their  ministry.  Such  men,  might,  therefore,  without 
presumption  or  imprudence,  apply  to  themselves  the  apostolic 
maxim,  "  We  are  unto  God — a  sweet  savour  of  Christ,  in 
them  that  are  saved,  and  in  them  that  perish."  Such  ministers 
would  not,  indeed,  say  this  without  adding,  "Who  is  sufficient 
for  these  things'?  "  nor  without  weeping  whilst  they  said,  "  to 
the  other  we  are  a  savour  of  death  unto  death  ; "  but  they 
could  not  blame  themselves  with  the  blood  of  souls.  It  was 
not  their  fault  that  any  were  lost  who  heard  them;  for  they 
extended  the  golden  sceptre  of  mercy  as  freely,  and  frequent- 
ly, and  fervently,  to  the  heedless  and  the  hardened,  as  to  the 
thoughtful  or  the  timid. 

This  is  a  very  different  case  from  that  of  a  minister,  who 
preaches  the  gospel  without  the  demonstration  of  the  Spirit, 
or  power.  He  makes  himself  the  savour  of  death  unto  death 
to  others,  even  when  he  teaches  "the  knowledge  of  Christ;" 
because  he  breathes  not  the  fragrance  of  that  knowledge. 
He  therefore  has  no  right  to  throw  himself  upon  the  apostolic 
maxim,  when  his  ministry  is  unsuccessful.  It  is  unsuccessful 
because  it  is  unsavoury.  It  brings  no  sinners  to  life,  because 
it  is  lifeless :  for  it  is  the  "savour"  of  the  knowledge  of 
Christ,  that  God  "  maketh  manifest  in  every  place,"  2  Cor. 
ii.  14;  and  that  savour  cannot  breathe  from  the  lips  or  looks 
of  a  minister,  unless  his  heart  burn  with  love  to  Christ  and  im« 
mortal  souls. 

It  is  high  time  that  the  church  of  Christ  should  consider, 
not  only  the  duty  of  depending  on  the  Spirit,  but  also  the  im- 
port and  the  importance  of  the  "demonstration  of  the  Spirit," 
in  preaching.  That  is  more — than  the  demonstration  of 
orthodoxy.  It  is  more  than  the  demonstration  of  either  sound 
scholarship  or  hard  study.  It  is  even  more  than  the  de- 
monstration of  mere  sincerity  and  fidelity.  Sincerity  may 
be  cold  and  fidelity  harsh.  Even  zeal  may  be  party  rival- 
ship,  or  personal  vanity ;  whilst  it  seems  holy  fire,  searching 
only  for  incense  to  the  glory  of  God  and  the  Lamb.     To 


wiiitefield's   life  and  times.  205 

preach  in  demonstration  of  the  Spirit,  is  even  more  than  bring- 
ing out  "  the  mind  of  the  Spirit,"  faithfully  and  fully.  The  real 
meaning  of  His  oracles  may  be  honestly  given,  and  yet  their 
true  spirit  neither  caught  nor  conveyed.  "  What  the  Spirit 
saith  unto  the  churches,"  may  be  repeated  to  the  churches 
without  evasion  or  faltering  ;  but  it  will  not  be  heard  as  His 
counsel  or  consolation,  unless  it  is  spoken  with  something  of 
his  own  love  and  solemnity.  He  is  the  Spirit  of  power,  and  of 
grace,  and  of  love,  as  well  as  the  Spirit  of  truth  and  wisdom  ; 
and,  therefore,  He  is  but  half  copied  in  preaching,  when  only 
his  meaning  is  given.  That  meaning  lies  in  His  mind,  not 
merely  as  truth,  nor  as  law,  nor  as  wisdom,  but  also  as  sym- 
pathy, solicitude,  and  love  for  the  souls  it  is  addressed  unto. 
The  words  of  the  Spirit  are  spirit  and  life  ;  and  therefore  the 
soul,  as  well  as  the  substance  of  their  meaning,  is  essential  to 
faithful  preaching.  They  can  hardly  be  said  to  be  the  words 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  when  they  are  uttered  in  a  spiritless  or 
lifeless  mood. 

This  will  be  more  obvious  by  looking  at  "  the  truth,  as  it  is 
in  Jesus."  In  Him  it  is  grace  as  well  as  truth.  All  his 
heart,  and  soul,  and  strength,  breathes  and  burns  in  his 
words.  His  motives  are  part  of  his  meaning.  He  explains 
the  great  salvation,  that  he  may  endear  and  enforce  its  claims 
at  the  same  time.  He  makes  us  feel,  that  he  feels  more  for 
our  souls  than  words  can  express.  He  compels  us  to  see  a 
beaming  of  earnestness  in  his  eye,  and  to  hear  a  beating  of 
intense  solicitude  in  his  heart,  and  to  recognise  a  fixedness  of 
purpose  in  all  his  manner,  nnspeakably  beyond  all  he  says. 
The  real  pleading  of  the  Saviour  with  sinners  begins  where 
his  words  end.  His  weeping  silence,  after  speaking  as  never 
man  spake,  tells  more  of  his  love  to  souls  than  all  his 
gracious  words.  We  feel  that  he  feels  he  has  gained  nothing 
by  his  preaching,  unless  he  has  won  souls.  He  leaves  upon 
every  mind  the  conviction  that  nothing  can  please  him  but 
the  heart ;  and  that  nothing  would  please  him  so  much  as 
giving  him  the  heart.  No  man  ever  rose,  or  can  rise,  from 
reading  the  entreaties  of  Christ,  without  feeling  that  Christ 
is  in  earnest, — is  intent, — is  absorbed,  to  seek  and  save  the 
lost. 

The  apostles  evidently  marked  this  with  great  attention, 
and  copied  it  with  much  success,  when  they  became  ambassa- 
dors '■'■for  Christ,"  by  the  ministry  of  reconciliation.  Then, 
they  did  more  than  deliver  the  truth  He  taught.     They  tried 

18 


206  whitefield's  life  and   times. 

to  utter  it  with  His  solemnity,  tenderness,  and  unction.  They 
tried  to  put  themselves  in  "  Christ's  stead,"  when  Christ  was 
no  longer  on  earth  to  beseech  men  to  be  reconciled  unto  God. 
This  was  "  the  demonstration  of  the  Spirit !  "  Saying  what 
Christ  did,  was  not  enough  for  them  :  they  laboured  to  say  it 
as  he  did  ;  or  in  the  spirit,  and  for  the  purpose,  he  had 
preached  the  gospel.  Thus  the  truth  was  in  them  as  it  was 
"  in  Jesus  ;  "  not  merely  as  true,  but  also  as  impressive,  per- 
suasive, and  absorbing.  They  spoke  the  truth,  as  he  had 
done,  "in  the  love  of  it,"  and  with  love  to  the  souls  it  was  able 
to  make  wise  unto  salvation. 

And  this  is  not  impossible,  even  now,  although  apostolic 
inspiration  be  at  an  end.  The  best  part  of  the  Spirit's  in- 
fluences,— love  to  the  gospel  and  immortal  souls, — is  yet 
attainable,  and  as  easily  attained  as  any  other  ministerial 
qualification.  A  minister  ought  to  be  as  much  ashamed, 
and  more  afraid,  of  being  unbaptized  with  the  Holy  Ghost 
and  fire,  as  of  being  ignorant  of  the  original  languages  of  the 
Holy  Scriptures.  Men  who  can  demonstrate  the  problems 
of  Euclid,  or  the  import  of  Greek  or  Hebrew  idioms,  have  no 
excuse  if  they  are  unable  to  preach  with  the  demonstration 
of  the  Spirit  and  power.  The  same  attention  to  the  latter 
demonstration  which  they  gave  to  the  former,  would  fill  them 
with  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  fire  them  with  holy  zeal. 

Nothing  is  so  simple,  although  nothing  be  so  sublime,  as 
preaching  "the  gospel  with  the  Holy  Ghost  sent  down  from 
heaven."  Any  prayerful  and  thoughtful  minister  may  preach 
in  this  spirit ;  for  it  neither  includes,  nor  excludes,  great 
talents,  learning,  or  ingenuity.  "An  unction  from  the  Holy 
One"  can  subordinate  the  mightiest  and  wealthiest  minds  to 
the  one  grand  object — watching  for  souls  ;  and  it  can  render 
subservient  and  successful  the  most  ordinary  powers  of  mind. 
The  acute  reasonings  of  Wesley,  and  the  warm-hearted  re- 
monstrances and  beseechings  of  Whitefield,  were  equally 
useful,  because  equally  demonstrations  of  the  Spirit.  In  like 
manner,  many  of  their  uneducated  colleagues  "turned  many 
to  righteousness ; "  and  are  themselves,  now,  turned  into 
stars  which  shall  shine  for  ever  in  the  firmament  of  the  church 
in  both  worlds.  The  secret  of  this  success  in  winning  souls 
was  the  same  in  both  classes  of  preachers ; — their  heart,  their 
soul,  their  all,  was  in  their  work.  Truth  had  the  force  of  di- 
vine truth,  the  fire  of  eternal  truth,  and  the  glory  of  saving 
truth,  upon  their  minds.     Their  hearts   were  full  (whether 


wiiitefield's   life   and  times.  207 

holding  much  or  little)  of  heavenly  treasure  ;  and  they  held  it 
as  heavenly  treasure,  and  poured  it  out  as  stewards  who  had 
to  account  for  it  in  heaven,  and  to  review  their  stewardship  of 
it  through  eternity.  Accordingly,  both  regular  congregations 
and  promiscuous  mobs,  whatever  they  thought  of  the  office  or 
the  talents  of  these  itinerants,  felt  that  they  were  onj^rcto  watch 
for  and  win  souls  ;  and  were  compelled  to  acknowledge,  that 
even  men  who  had  never  been  at  the  University,  "  had  been 
with  Jesus,"  and  were,  indeed,  "  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost." 
Another  way  in  which  the  apostles  caught  and  kept  up  the 
demonstration  of  the  Spirit  in  their  preaching,  was,  by  trying 
to  beseech  men  to  be  reconciled  unto  God,  just  as  God  him- 
self might  be  supposed  to  plead  with  them,  were  He  to  bow 
the  heavens  and  come  down  as  a  minister  of  reconciliation. 
This  was  a  bold  attempt !  Even  its  sublimity  and  benevo- 
lence cannot  hide  its  boldness,  however  they  may  excuse  it. 
"  As  though  God  did  beseech  you,  we  pray  you  in  Christ's 
stead,  be  ye  reconciled  unto  God."  Archangels  would  hardly 
have  ventured  to  go  so  far  as  the  apostles,  in  thus  trying  to 
represent  both  God  and  the  Lamb,  as  reconcilers.  It  was, 
however,  an  attempt  to  win  souls,  as  wise  and  humble,  as  it 
was  sublime  or  bold.  There  was  no  presumption  nor  osten- 
tation, nor  pretence  in  it.  They  magnified  their  office,  only 
that  they  might  humble  themselves  the  more  deeply,  and  dis- 
charge its  duties  the  more  faithfully.  The  attempt  to  copy 
God,  was  also  the  best  way  of  relieving  themselves  from  the 
fear  of  man,  and  their  best  security  against  all  trifling,  tem- 
porizing, and  display,  in  the  work  of  God.  As  his  represent- 
atives, there  would,  of  course,  be  no  airs  nor  affectation  in 
their  manner  of  preaching;  no  parade  of  novelty  or  learning 
in  their  matter ;  no  taint  of  bitterness  or  harshness  in  their 
spirit.  Thus,  by  adopting  Him  as  their  model,  they  were  sure 
to  preach  better  than  any  other  example  could  have  taught 
them  ;  for,  whilst  it  bound  them  to  soberness  and  solemnity,  it 
left  them  free  to  speak  in  thunder  when  the  conscience  was 
to  be  roused  ;  and  in  metaphor,  when  attention  was  to  be  won 
or  relieved  ;  and  with  all  the  forms  of  eloquence,  whenever 
their  subject  inspired 

"Thoughts  which  breathe,  or  words  that  burn." 

Yes  ;  this  divine  standard,  equally  lofty  and  lovely,  left  them 
at  full  liberty  to  ransack  creation  for  figures  ;   time  for  facts  ; 


208         w«  it  e  field's   life   and  times. 

heaven  for  motives  ;  hell  for  warnings  ;  and  eternity  for  argu- 
ments :  binding  them  only  to  make  the  whole  bear  directly, 
consistently,  and  supremely,  upon  their  one  grand  object — re- 
conciling tbe  world  unto  God  by  the  blood  of  the  cross :  for 
whilst  that  was  "  all  and  all "  as  the  final  end  of  their  minis- 
try, they  might  wanantably  and  legitimately  employ  in  the 
pursuit  of  it,  every  tone  and  term,  image  and  emotion,  in 
which  God  himself  had  ever  appealed  to  the  hopes  or  fears  of 
man.  Accordingly,  there  was  much  that  was  godlike  in  their 
preaching.  They  could  not,  of  course,  realize  fully,  nor  imi- 
tate tar,  the  manner  or  the  spirit  in  which  God  would  plead 
his  own  cause,  were  He  to  preach  his  own  gospel :  but  still, 
their  reasonings  were  not  unlike  His  manifold  wisdom  ;  nor 
their  appeals  unworthy  of  His  paternal  tenderness ;  nor  their 
remonstrances  inconsistent  with  His  judicial  authority.  There 
was  a  fine  demonstration  of  the  Spirit  in  the  boldness  of  Pe- 
ter, in  the  sublimity  of  Paul,  and  in  the  heavenliness  of  John. 

It  was  to  this  beseeching  as  in  the  "  stead  of  Christ  and 
God,"  that  Paul  referred,  when  he  besought  the  Ephesians  to 
pray  for  him,  "that  utterance  might  be  given  him,  to  speak 
boldly "  as  an  ambassador,  though  in  bonds,  "  ought  to 
speak."  He  meant  more  than  not  being  silent  or  ashamed  ; 
more  than  rising  superior  to  circumstances  and  danger.  He 
meant  also,  speaking  with  equal  demonstration  of  the  Spirit 
and  power,  in  peril  as  in  peace  ;  in  Rome  as  in  Jerusalem  ; 
before  Caesar  as  before  the  sanhedrim. 

In  nothing,  perhaps,  did  Whitefield  keep  Paul  more  before 
him,  than  in  this  strong  solicitude  to  "  speak  as  he  ought  to 
speak."  No  phrase  occurs  so  often  in  his  journals  as, 
u  preached  with  much  power ;  with  some  power."  He  does  not 
venture  to  call  even  his  greatest  efforts  a  "demonstration  of 
the  Spirit;"  but  the  word  "power"  occurs  so  uniformly,  that  it 
tells  plainly  what  he  was  thinking  about,  after  all  sermons 
which  produced  a  visible  effect.  His  enemies  said  he  was  com- 
plimenting his  own  sermons.  They  little  knew  his  heart,  and 
still  less  the  humility  which  springs  from  "an  unction"  of  the 
Spirit !  To  prevent  unnecessary  misunderstanding,  however, 
he  explained  his  meaning  thus,  in  a  note  to  his  revised  jour- 
nals :  "By  the  word  power,  I  mean,  all  along,  no  more,  nor 
no  less,  than  enlargement  of  heart,  and  a  comfortable  frame, 
given  me  from  above  ;  by  which  I  was  enabled  to  speak  with 
freedom  and  clearness,  and  the  people  were  impressed  and 
affected  thereby."     This  is  only  explaining — not  retracting 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       209 

nor  qualifying.  He  knew,  and  tens  of  thousands  felt,  that 
God  was  with  him  of  a  truth,  making  the  gospel  rebound  from 
his  heart  to  their  hearts ;  melting  them  by  warming  him ; 
winning  their  souls,  by  absorbing  his  soul  with  the  glories  of 
salvation. 

Happily  this  spirit  cannot  be  imitated  in  preaching.  It 
may  be  imbibed  and  breathed  by  any  devotional  and  devoted 
minister;  but  it  cannot  be  copied.  No  tones,  looks,  nor 
tears,  can  demonstrate  the  presence  of  the  Spirit  in  a  sermon, 
if  the  preacher  has  not  been  "  in  the  Spirit,"  before  coming 
to  the  pulpit.  Neither  the  melting  nor  the  kindling  of  men 
but  half  devoted,  or  but  half-hearted  in  devotion,  can  melt 
down  or  wield  an  audience,  by  the  gospel  ;  because  the  Holy 
Spirit  will  not  honour  fits  and  starts  of  fidelity.  The  minister 
must  be  a  holy  temple  unto  the  Holy  Ghost,  who  would  have 
that  Spirit  speak  to  the  hearts  of  men  by  him.  Never  does  a 
preacher  dupe  himself,  or  endanger  others,  more,  than  when 
he  imagines  that  the  Spirit  will  give  power  to  the  gospel 
amongst  his  people,  whilst  it  has  not  power  upon  himself. 
God  makes  ministers  a  blessing  to  others,  by  blessing  them- 
selves first.     He  works  in  them,  in  order  to  work  by  them. 

I  throw  out  these  hints,  not  to  ministers,  but  to  private 
Christians,  who  know  what  it  is  to  pray  in  the  Spirit,  and  what 
it  is  to  see  divine  things  in  the  light  of  eternity.  Preaching 
with  the  Holy  Ghost  sent  down  from  heaven,  is  just  what 
praying  in  the  Holy  Ghost  is  ;  not  form,  nor  forcing,  nor 
copying ;  but  the  outpouring  of  a  heart  penetrated  with  the 
greatness  of  the  great  salvation,  and  absorbed  with  the  solemn 
responsibilities  involved  in  the  hope  of  salvation.  Did  such 
hearers  sustain  such  preachers,  by  prayer,  and  esteem,  and 
co-operation,  there  would  be  far  more  demonstration  of  the 
Spirit  in  the  evangelical  pulpits  of  the  land :  and  many  who 
now  content  themselves  with  depending  on  the  Holy  Spirit, 
would  be  compelled  to  cultivate  the  fellowship  of  that  Spirit, 
instead  of  merely  complimenting  his  power. 

18* 


210        whitefield's  life   and   times. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

WHITEFIELD      IN      SCOTLAND. 

1741. 

The  state  of  religion  in  Scotland  at  this  time  will  be  best 
understood,  as  well  as  most  fairly  represented,  by  a  brief  view 
of  the  rise  and  progress  of  the  Secession.  That  second  Re- 
formation in  Scotland  brought  into  full  light  and  play  all  the 
good  and  evil  of  the  national  church.  I  shall,  therefore, 
state  the  facts,  just  as  they  now  challenge  and  defy  investi- 
gation. I  have  never  seen  the  final  appeals  of  the  Associate 
Synod  invalidated ;  and  therefore  I  employ  their  own  words. 

"The  secession  is  regarded  both  by  its  friends  and  its  ene- 
mies as  a  highly  important  event  in  the  history  of  the  church 
of  Scotland.  However  slight  and  accidental  the  circum- 
stances by  which  it  was  immediately  occasioned  may  appear, 
it  unquestionably  arose  from  a  general  state  of  matters  in  the 
church,  naturally  tending  towards  such  a  crisis.  Divine  Pro- 
vidence, whose  operations  are  often  apparently  slow,  but  al- 
ways sure  and  progressive,  had  been  gradually  paving  the 
way  for  an  open  division,  calculated,  notwithstanding  all  its 
accompanying  evils,  to  prevent  the  utter  extinction  of  reli- 
gious principle  and  freedom  in  the  land,  and  to  advance  the 
interests  of  truth  and  piety.  A  torrent  of  corruption,  which 
threatened  the  overthrow  of  every  thing  sacred  in  doctrine 
and  valuable  in  privilege,  was  proceeding  to  so  great  a  height, 
that  enlightened  and  conscientious  men  were  impressed  with 
the  necessity  of  bold  and  decisive  steps. 

"The  prevalence  of  those  erroneous  tenets  and  oppressive 
measures,  which  gave  rise  to  the  Secession,  may  be  traced 
back  to  the  defects  attending  the  settlement  of  ecclesiastical 
affairs  at  the  era  of  the  Revolution  1G88.  That  era  was  truly 
glorious ;  and  in  no  quarter  of  the  British  empire  were  its 
blessings  more  necessary,  or  more  sensibly  experienced,  than 
in  Scotland.     Religious  as  well  as  civil  rights  and  liberties 


WHI  TE  F  I  E  L  D'S     LIFE    AND     TIMES.  211 

were  then  restored  to  a  nation,  which,  under  the  tyrannical 
sway  of  Charles  II.  and  James  VII.  had  been  most  cruelly 
degraded  and  oppressed.  Episcopacy  was  abolished  ;  the 
presbyterian  worship  and  government  re-established  ;  pastors 
who  had  been  ejected  from  their  churches  in  1 0(51 ,  were  re- 
placed ;  and  the  law  of  patronage,  though  not  absolutely  an- 
nulled, was  so  modified,  and,  in  consequence,  so  gently  ad- 
ministered, that  it  was  scarcely  felt  as  a  grievance. 

"  But  while  the  Scottish  presbyterians  had  much  cause  for 
gratitude  and  joy,  they  had  at  the  same  time  several  sources 
of  regret.  The  omission  of  an  act  formally  asserting  Christ's 
sole  headship  over  the  church,  and  expressly  condemning  the 
royal  supremacy  which  had  been  assumed  under  the  two  pre- 
ceding reigns,  was  deeply  lamented.  Nor  was  it  an  inconsid- 
erable evil,  that,  in  compliance  with  the  wishes  of  the  court, 
about  three  hundred  of  the  prelatical  incumbents,  some  of 
whom  had  even  been  active  agents  in  the  work  of  persecu- 
tion, were,  '  upon  easy  terms,'  permitted  to  retain  their  sta- 
tions in  the  parishes  of  Scotland,  and  to  sit  in  the  ecclesiasti- 
cal courts.  Attached,  in  many  instances,  to  unscriptural  doc- 
trines, no  less  than  to  episcopalian  forms  of  worship  and  dis- 
cipline, these  men  could  not  fail  to  obstruct  the  efforts  of  those 
faithful  ministers  who  attempted  to  promote  the  cause  of 
evangelical  truth  and  practical  religion.  Among  those  min- 
isters themselves,  there  were  comparatively  few  who  display- 
ed all  that  magnanimity  and  zeal  which  the  interests  of  the 
Redeemer's  kingdom  required  ;  and  the  exercise  of  which,  on 
that  momentous  occasion,  might  have  proved  incalculably 
advantageous  to  vital  Christianity  in  their  own  days,  and  in 
succeeding  ages.  Owing  to  the  pusillanimity  of  some  clergy- 
men, and  the  waywardness  of  others,  lamentable  symptoms 
of  degeneracy  in  principle  and  practice  were  discernible  with- 
in a  short  period  after  the  happy  Revolution.  The  worthy 
Halyburton  accordingly,  amid  the  triumphant  expressions  of 
Christian  faith  and  hope,  which  he  uttered  on  his  death-bed, 
in  1712,  deplored  in  the  strongest  terms  '  the  growing  apos- 
tacy'  of  the  times,  and,  in  particular,  that  indifference  to  the 
peculiarities  of  the  gospel  and  to  the  power  of  godliness 
which  prevailed  among  a  great  proportion  of  the  clergy. 
He  exclaimed,  for  example,  '  Oh  that  the  ministry  of  Scot- 
land may  be  kept  from  destroying  the  church  of  Scotland. 
Oh  that  I  could  obtain  it  of  them  with  tears  of  blood,  to  be 


212        white  field's    life    and    times. 

concerned  for  the  church  !   Shall  we  be  drawn  away  from  the 
precious  gospel,  and  from  Christ.'     Fraser's  Erskines. 

"  The  secession  did  not  originate  in  any  dissatisfaction 
with  the  professed  principles  of  the  church  of  Scotland,  which 
seceders  venerate  as  a  precious  summary  of  divine  truths — 
the  most  valuable  inheritance  they  have  received  from  their 
fathers — and  which  they  are  anxious  to  transmit  in  purity  to 
their  children.  But  for  some  time  before  they  were  expelled 
from  the  communion  of  the  national  church,  a  tide  of  defec- 
tion had  been  flowing  in  from  the  prevailing  party  in  her 
judicatories,  which,  while  it  spared  the  erroneous  in  doc- 
trine, and  the  irregular  in  conduct,  bore  down  the  Christian 
people  contending  for  their  religious  privileges,  and  those 
ministers  who  testified  faithfully  against  ecclesiastical  mis- 
conduct. 

"  A  professor  of  divinity,  in  one  of  the  universities,  taught 
that  the  souls  of  children  are  as  pure  and  holy  as  the  soul  of 
Adam  was  in  his  original  condition,  being  inferior  to  him  only 
as  he  was  formed  in  a  state  of  maturity ;  and  that  the  light  of 
nature,  including  tradition,  is  sufficient  to  teach  men  the  way 
of  salvation.  For  these  doctrines,  subversive  of  the  first 
principles  of  Christianity,  a  process  was  instituted  against 
him,  in  which  it  was  clearly  proved  that  he  was  chargeable 
with  teaching  publicly  these  and  other  errors.  But  so  far 
from  being  subjected  to  the  censure  he  deserved,  he  was  per- 
mitted to  retain  his  place  in  the  university  and  the  church  ; 
and  the  General  Assembly  were  satisfied  with  declaring  that 
some  of  his  opinions  were  not  evidently  founded  on  the  word 
of  God,  nor  necessary  to  be  taught  in  divinity,  and  prohibit- 
ing him  from  publishing  such  sentiments  in  future. 

"  The  '  Marrow  of  Modern  Divinity '  teaches,  '  that  God 
in  the  gospel  makes  a  gift  of  the  Saviour  to  mankind  as  sin- 
ners, warranting  every  one  who  hears  the  gospel  to  believe  in 
him  for  salvation  ;  that  believers  are  entirely  freed  from  the 
law  as  a  covenant  of  works  ;  that  good  works  are  not  to  be 
performed  by  believers  that  they  may  obtain  salvation  by 
them.'  In  the  unqualified  condemnation  of  these  principles, 
the  General  Assembly  materially  condemned  some  of  the 
most  important  doctrines  of  the  gospel,  such  as  the  unlimited 
extent  of  the  gospel  call,  and  the  free  grace  of  God  in  the  sal- 
vation of  sinners. 

"  For  a  short  time  after  the  revival  of  the  law  of  patronage, 
in  1712,  such  as  received  presentations  were  backward  to  ac- 


whitefield's  life   and   times.  213 

cept  of  them,  and  the  church  courts  were  unwilling  to  proceed 
to  their  settlement,  where  opposition  was  made  by  the  people 
of  the  vacant  charge.  But  presentees  and  judicatories  be- 
came gradually  less  scrupulous,  and  several  settlements  after- 
wards took  place  in  reclaiming  congregations,  which  gave 
plain  evidence  that  the  rights  of  the  members  of  the  church 
would  be  no  longer  regarded.  The  little  influence  which 
might  occasionally  be  left  to  the  people  in  the  choice  of  their 
ministers,  was  destroyed  by  an  act  of  the  General  Assembly, 
passed  immediately  before  the  commencement  of  the  seces- 
sion. This  act,  providing  that  where  patrons  might  neglect, 
or  decline  to  exercise,  their  rights,  the  minister  should  be 
chosen  by  a  majority  of  the  elders  and  heritors,  if  protestant, 
was  unconstitutionally  passed  by  the  Assembly,  as  a  great 
majority  of  the  presbyteries,  who  gave  their  opinions  upon  the 
subject,  were  decidedly  hostile  to  the  measure. 

"  Many  pious  and  faithful  ministers  were  grieved  by  these 
defections  ;  but  being  deprived,  by  the  prevailing  party  in  the 
Assembly,  of  the  liberty  of  marking  their  disapprobation  in  the 
minutes  of  the  court,  no  method  of  maintaining  a  good  con- 
science remained,  except  testifying  against  defection,  in  their 
public  ministrations.  This  method  was  adopted  ;  and  for  a 
public  condemnation  of  these  corruptions  by  the  Rev.  Ebe- 
nezer  Erskine,  1732,  a  process  was  instituted  against  him, 
which  terminated,  1733,  in  first  suspending  him  and  three  of 
his  brethren,  the  Rev.  Messrs.  William  Wilson,  Alexander 
MoncriefF,  and  James  Fisher,  who  had  joined  him,  from  the 
exercise  of  the  ministerial  office,  and  afterwards,  1740,  dis- 
solving their  relation  to  their  congregations  and  the  national 
church."     Dr.  Waugh's  Life. 

"  The  valuable  order  of  husbandmen,  who  constituted  a 
very  considerable  portion"  of  the  secession,  "  were,  at  this 
period,  of  the  third  generation  in  descent  from  the  covenant- 
ers, who  lived  towards  the  latter  end  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 
tury; to  whom  their  country  owes  a  deep  debt  of  gratitude, 
for  their  pious  zeal,  their  patient  sufferings,  and  their  severe, 
long-protracted,  and  ultimately  successful  struggle  with  a  des- 
potic and  persecuting  government.  Like  their  ancestors, 
whose  memory  for  the  most  part  they  warmly  cherished  and 
venerated,  besides  being  zealous  presbyterians,  they  were 
distinguished  by  frugal  habits,  simple  manners,  and  an  ardent 
regard  for  evangelical  doctrines.  In  addition  to  a  regular 
and  exemplary  attendance  on  the  public  ordinances  of  divine 


214        whitefield's    life    and    times. 

worship,  they  faithfully  performed  the  exercises  of  devotion 
in  their  families,  and  laboured,  with  patriarchal  diligence,  to 
instil  into  the  minds  of  their  children  and  domestics  the  prin- 
ciples of  sound  doctrine  and  a  holy  life.  The  strict  and  regu- 
lar observance  of  the  duties  of  family  religion,  appears  to 
have  been  one  chief  cause  of  the  high  eminence  in  Scriptural 
knowledge,  in  sobriety  of  manners,  as  well  as  in  every  domes- 
tic virtue,  for  which  the  northern  part  of  Great  Britain  was 
then  justly  celebrated.  The  patriarchal  simplicity  of  man- 
ners which,  about  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  so  especially 
characterized  Scottish  husbandmen,  was  calculated,  in  a  high 
degree,  to  foster  deep  affections,  and  a  sober  but  manly  ear- 
nestness both  of  principle  and  deportment ;  and  it  may  be 
fairly  stated,  as  one  of  the  happy  privileges  of  the  secession 
church,  that  so  large  a  number  of  its  ministers  have  sprung 
from  this  virtuous  and  valuable  order  of  men. 

"  But  the  religious  order  of  the  family  was  the  distinguish- 
ing trait.  The  whole  household  assembled  in  the  hall  (or 
kitchen)  in  the  morning  before  breakfast,  for  family  worship, 
and  in  the  evening  before  supper.  The  good  man,  of  course, 
led  their  devotions,  every  one  having  his  Bible  in  his  hand. 
This  was  the  stated  course  even  in  seed-time  and  harvest  : 
between  five  and  six  in  the  morning  was  the  hour  of  prayer 
in  these  busy  seasons. 

"  On  Sabbath  all  went  to  church,  however  great  the  dis- 
tance, except  one  person  in  turn,  to  take  care  of  the  house  or 
younger  children,  and  others  to  tend  the  cattle.  After  a  late 
dinner,  on  their  return,  the  family  assembled  around  the  mas- 
ter, who  first  catechised  the  children  and  then  the  servants. 
Each  was  required  to  tell  what  he  remembered  of  the  religi- 
ous services  they  had  joined  in  at  the  house  of  God;  each 
repeated  a  portion  of  the  Shorter  Catechism ;  and  all  were 
then  examined  on  heads  of  divinity,  from  the  mouth  of  the 
master.  Throughout  the  whole  of  the  Sabbath,  all  worldly 
concerns,  except  such  as  necessity  or  mercy  required  to  be 
attended  to,  were  strictly  laid  aside  ;  and  nothing  was  allowed 
to  enter  into  conversation,  save  subjects  of  religion."  Dr. 
Wau git's  Life.  Such  were  the  principles  and  character  of 
the  Seceders  :  and  they  were  common  in  the  kirks  which 
possessed  evangelical  ministers. 

Amongst  other  steps  taken  by  the  Erskines,  in  order  to 
strengthen  the  secession,  was  their  overture  to  Whitefield. 
Fraser's  account  of  this  negociation  is,  upon  the  whole,  the 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         215 

most  candid  and  complete  that  we  possess.  It  hardly  shows, 
however,  all  the  urgency  of  the  Erskines  to  secure  a  monopoly 
of  Whitefield's  influence.  Ralph's  letter  to  him,  of  April  10, 
1741,  contains  more  than  Fraser  has  quoted.  The  following 
appeals  are  omitted  :  "  Come,  if  possible,  dear  Whitefielir, 
come,  and  come  to  us  also.  There  is  no  face  on  earth  I 
would  desire  more  earnestly  to  see.  Yet  I  would  desire  it 
only  in  a  way  that,  I  think,  would  tend  most  to  the  advancing 
.of  our  Lord's  kingdom,  and  the  reformation  work,  among  our 
hands.  Such  is  the  situation  of  affairs  among  us,  that  unless 
you  come  with  a  design  to  meet  and  abide  with  us,  particu- 
larly of  the  Associate  Presbytery,  and  to  make  your  public 
appearances  in  the  places  especially  of  their  concern, — I 
would  dread  the  consequences  of  your  coming,  lest  it  should 
seem  equally  to  countenance  our  persecutors.  Your  fame 
would  occasion  a  flocking  to  you,  to  whatever  side  you  turn  ; 
and  if  it  should  be  in  their  pulpits,  as  no  doubt  some  of  them 
would  urge,  we  know  how  it  would  be  improved  against  us. — 
I  know  not  with  whom  you  could  safely  join  yourself,  if  not 
with  us."  Olipkanfs  Whitefield,  Edin.  1820.  To  all  such 
appeals,  Whitefield's  answer  was,  "  I  come  only  as  an  occa- 
sional preacher,  to  preach  the  simple  gospel  to  all  that  are 
willing  to  hear  me,  of  whatever  denomination.  I  write  this, 
that  there  may  be  no  misunderstanding  between  us."  Letters. 
With  this  key,  the  following  documents  from  Fraser  will  be 
as  intelligible  as  they  are  interesting. 

Mr.  Erskine  sustained  a  heavy  disappointment  when  White- 
field  refused  to  co-operate  with  him  in  the  manner  asked  and 
expected.  "  Having  received  favourable  accounts  respecting 
the  character  and  doctrine  of  this  celebrated  man,  and  the 
extraordinary  success  of  his  ministry  in  England  and  Ame- 
rica, he  affectionately  invited  him  to  make  a  visit  to  Scotland, 
and  to  unite  his  efforts  with  those  of  the  Associate  Presby- 
tery, in  promoting  the  interests  of  truth  and  godliness.  A 
letter  from  Mr.  Erskine  to  Mr.  Whitefield,  a  short-hand  copy 
of  which  we  have  discovered  in  his  38th  Note-book,  throws 
some  light  on  the  views  and  motives  which  influenced  him 
and  his  brethren  in  giving  him  that  invitation.  Several  ex- 
pressions are  illegible.  We  give  the  following  extracts." 
Eraser's  Life  of  Erskine. 


216        whitefield's  life    and  times. 

"  Hilldown,  near  Dunbar,  June,  1741. 

"  Rev.  and  very  dear  brother, 

"  I  inclined  much  to  have  written  you  as  soon  as  I  heard  of 
your  return  to  England  ;  but  I  was  at  a  loss  for  want  of  a  di- 
rection, till  I  received  yours  from  Bristol,  of  the  16th  of  May, 
which  was  very  acceptable.  Though  I  have  not  yet  seen 
your  last  journal,  yet  I  have  heard  of  it,  and  of  the  great 
things  God  has  done  for  you  and  by  you  in  the  American- 
world,  and  at  home  also,  in  this  island  of  the  sea ;  which 
brings  that  doxology  to  mind — '  Thanks  be  unto  God,  who 
always  causeth  us  to  triumph  in  Christ,  and  maketh  manifest 
the  savour  of  his  knowledge  by  us  in  every  place.'  May  you 
be  enabled  more  and  more  to  be  joyful  in  his  salvation,  and 
in  the  name  of  your  God  to  set  up  your  banner.  The  banner 
which  God  has  given  you  to  display,  because  of  truth,  is  far 
more  glorious  than  that  of  (Admiral)  Vernon.  But  I  know 
that  you  are  disposed  to  say,  '  Not  I,  but  the  grace  of  God  in 
me  ;  '  '  Not  unto  us,  but  unto  thy  name  be  the  glory.' 

"  How  desirable  would  it  be  to  all  the  sincere  lovers  of 
Jesus  Christ  in  Scotland,  to  see  him  '  travelling  in  the  great- 
ness of  his  strength  '  among  us  also  in  your  administrations  ! 
Truth  falls  in  our  streets.  Equity  cannot  enter  into  our  eccle- 
siastical courts.  As  our  Assembly  did  last  year  eject  us 
from  our  churches,  and  exclude  us  from  our  ministry  and 
legal  maintenance,  for  lifting  up  our  reformation  testimony  ; 
so,  from  all  I  can  hear,  they  have  this  year,  in  May  last,  ap- 
pointed several  violent  intrusions  to  be  made  upon  Christian 
congregations  ;  whereby  the  flock  of  Christ  is  scattered  more 
and  more  upon  the  mountains ;  for  a  stranger  will  they  not 
follow,  who  know  the  Shepherd's  voice.  The  wandering 
sheep  come  with  their  bleatings  to  the  Associate  Presbytery; 
whereby  our  work  is  daily  increasing,  in  feeding  and  rallying 
our  Master's  flock,  scattered  and  offended  by  the  established 
church. 

"  From  this  short  glimpse  of  the  state  of  matters  among 
us,  you  will  easily  see  what  reason  the  Associate  Presbytery 
have  to  say,  Come  over  to  Scotland  and  help  us;  come  up 
to  the  help  of  the  Lord  against  the  mighty  ;  for  the  enemy 
comes  in  like  a  flood,  but  1  hope  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  will 
lift  up  a  standard  against  him.  We  hear  that  God  is  with 
you  of  a  truth,  and  therefore  we  wish  for  as  intimate  a  con- 
nexion with  you  in  the  Lord  as  possible,  for  building  up  the 


whitefield's   life   and   times.         217 

fallen  tabernacle  of  David  in  Britain  ;    and  particularly  in 
Scotland,  when  you  shall  be  sent  to  us.     This,  dear  brother, 
and  no  party  views,  is  at  the  bottom  of  any  proposal  made  by 
my  brother  Ralph,  in  his  own  name,  and  in  the  name  of  his 
associate  brethren.     It  would  be  very  unreasonable  to  propose 
or  urge  that  you  should  incorporate  as  a  member  of  our  Pres- 
bytery, and  wholly  embark  in  every  branch  of  our  reforma- 
tion,  unless  the   Father   of  lights  were   clearing  your  way 
thereunto ;  which  we  pray  he  may  enlighten  in  his  time,  so  as 
you  and  we  may  see  eye  to  eye.     All  intended  by  us  at  pre- 
sent is,  that,  when  you  come  to  Scotland,  your  way  may  be 
such  as  not  to  strengthen  the  hands  of  our  corrupt  clergy  and 
judicatories,  who  are  carrying  on  a  course  of  defection,  wor- 
rying out  a  faithful  ministry  from  the  land,  and  the  power  of 
religion  with  it.     *      *      *      *       Far  be  it  from  us  to  limit 
your  great  Master's  commission  to  preach  the  gospel  to  every 
creature.     We  ourselves   preach  the  gospel  to  all  promiscu- 
ously who  are  willing  to  hear  us.     But  we  preach  not  upon 
the  call  and  invitation  of  the  ministers,    but   of  the  people, 
which,  I  suppose,  is  your  own  practice  now  in  England ;   and 
should  this   also  be  your  way  when  you  come  to  Scotland, 
it  could  do  the  Associate   Presbytery  no   manner   of  harm. 
But  if,  besides,  you  could  find  freedom   to  company  with  us, 
to  preach  with  us  and  for  us,  and  to  accept  of  our  advices  in 
your  work,   while  in  this  country,   it  might  contribute  much 
to  weaken  the  enemy's  hand,  and  to  strengthen  ours  in  the 
work  of  the  Lord,  when  the  strength  of  the  battle  is  against  us. 
"  These  things  I  only  propose  with  all  submission.     The 
Lord  himself,    I   pray  and  hope,   will  direct  you  to   such  a 
course  and  conduct  as  shall  be  for  his  own  glory,  and  the  edi- 
fication of  his  church  every  where,  and  particularly  among  us 
in  Scotland.     We,  in  this  country,   are  generally  a  lifeless, 
lukewarm,  and  upsitten  generation.     What  a  blessing  would 
it  be  to  us,  if  your  visit  should   be  attended  with  such  fruits 
and  effects  as  at  Boston  ;  an  account  of  which  I  have  read  in 
your  last  to  my  brother  Ralph — which  yields  great  matter  of 
thanksgiving. 

"  I  am  truly  sorry  for  the  Wesleyans — to  see  them  so  far 
left  to  themselves.  I  have  seen  your  letter  to  them,  and 
praise  the  Lord  on  your  behalf,  who  enables  you  to  stand  up 
so  valiantly  for  the  truth,  and  with  so  much  light  and  energy. 
May  his  truth  be  more  and  more  your  shield  and  buckler. 
"  I  am,  your  unworthy  and  affectionate  brother, 

"  Ebenezer  Erskine." 
19 


218        whitefield's    life    and    TIMES. 

This  letter  had  been  preceded  by  one  from  Ralph  Erskine, 
the  brother  and  coadjutor  of  Ebenezer. 

"  Dunfermline,  Aug.  21,  1739. 
11  Reverend  and  very  dear  sir, 

"  Yours,  dated  July  23d,  was  most  acceptable  ;  and  I 
would  have  answered  it  by  the  first  post,  as  you  propose,  but 
that,  as  it  lay  about  eight  days  in  my  house  before  I  was  at 
home  to  receive  it,  so  I  delayed  a  few  days  thereafter,  as  I 
was  to  meet  with  my  brethren  of  the  Associate  Presbytery,  to 
whom  I  communicated  your  line,  and  Mr.  William  Seward's, 
and  at  the  same  time  gave  to  each  of  them  a  copy  of  your  last 
journal,  as  a  present  from  you.  I  received  nine  of  them  at 
Burntisland,  where  we  then  were.  I  received  also,  much 
about  the  same  time,  six  of  your  last  sermon,  on  John  vii.  37, 
some  of  which,  with  some  of  the  former,  I  also  gave  to  some 
of  the  brethren.  And  as  I  return  you  hearty  thanks  for  these 
presents*  so  my  brethren  received  them  as  tokens  of  that 
love  and  kindness  which  you  express  in  such  affectionate 
terms,  in  the  close  of  your  letter  to  me,  as  gave  them  very 
much  pleasure  and  satisfaction,  and  tended  to  increase  and 
inflame  their  love  more  and  more  to  you.  Your  being  oppos- 
ed for  owning  us,  and  your  maintaining  such  a  regard  for  us, 
give  ground  to  hope  and  expect  that  you  will  receive  no  infor- 
mation about  us  to  our  disadvantage,  unless,  or  until  you  have 
account  thereof  from  ourselves,  since  you  have  laid  such  a 
foundation  of  kindly  correspondence  with  us. 

"I  have  some  acquaintance  with  Mr.  Davidson  in  Edin- 
burgh, whom  you  mention,  and  was  glad  to  hear  he  had  sent 
you  Mr.  Boston's  books.  However,  he  has  not  had  so  much 
communication  with  us,  as  I  hear  he  has  with  you,  since  he 
began  to  sway  towards  the  independent  or  congregational 
way,  which  he  has  for  some  time  been  active  to  promote, 
though  otherwise,  I  hope,  a  good  and  well-disposed  man. 
Meantime,  by  whatever  hand  you  please  to  send  any  print, 
(expecting,  by  the  first  occasion,  to  see  the  appendix,  if  pub- 
lished,) it  can  scarce  fail  to  come  safe,  if  but  directed  as  your 
letters  are.  I  have  given  orders  to  send  you  the  prints  relat- 
ing to  our  public  affairs  in  the  Associate  Presbytery ;  and  in 
case  of  our  absence,  they  are  to  come  to  Mr.  Seward  or  Mr. 
John  Wesley. 

"  1  have  now  read  your  journals  and  sermons  ;  and  I  can 
assure  you,  with  reference  to  the  whole  work  in  general,  and 


whitefield's   life   and  times.         219 

the  main  scope  of  it,  my  soul  has  been  made  to  magnify  the 
Lord  for  the  very  great  things  he  has  done  for  you  and  by 
you ;  and  I  rejoice  to  see  you  ascribe  all  to  the  free  grace  of 
God  in  Christ,  and  that  he  has  so  remarkably  raised  you  up 
to  testify  against  the  errors  and  corruptions  of  the  times,  to 
rouse  and  awaken  a  secure  generation,  and  to  bring  such  a 
number  of  sinners  from  darkness  to  light,  and  from  the  power 
of  Satan  unto  God.  If  I  shall  speak  of  any  particulars  where- 
in we  differ,  it  shall  only  be  to  show  the  greatness  of  my  love 
to  you,  by  the  greatness  of  the  freedom  1  use  with  you  ;  also 
to  prevent  after-mistakes,  and  to  promote  unfeigned  love, 
which  can  both  cover  a  multitude  of  infirmities,  and  overlook 
a  number  of  differences — not  by  quite  concealing  them,  which 
might  bring  love  under  a  suspicion,  but  by  a  friendly  men- 
tioning of  them,  which  may  prove  it  to  be  without  dissimu- 
lation. 

"  Though  we  desire  to  cover  with  the  mantle  of  love  all  the 
differences  betwixt  you  and  us  that  flow  from  your  education 
in  the  church  of  England,  and  adore  the  merciful  providence 
of  God,  who  has  so  far  enlightened  and  qualified  you  and 
your  brethren  to  be  witnesses  for  him  and  instruments  of  re- 
formation, yet  we  hope  the  more  this  work  is  of  God,  the 
more  will  it  tend  to  bring  about  a  happy  union  in  the  Lord 
betwixt  you  and  us,  not  only  in  a  private  and  personal,  but 
even  in  a  more  public  and  general  way.  My  brethren  and  I, 
that  have  had  occasion  here  to  confer  about  you,  see  a  beauty 
in  the  providence  of  your  being  in  communion  with  the  Eng- 
lish church.  Otherwise  such  great  confluences  from  among 
them  had  not  attended  your  ministry,  nor  consequently  re- 
ceived the  benefit  or  reaped  the  advantage  which  so  many  of 
them  have  done.  And  though  infinite  wisdom  has  made  and 
may  yet  make,  this  an  alluring  bait  to  draw  them  forth,  yet  as 
England's  reformation  at  first,  (from  popery  and  its  supersti- 
tious and  ceremonial  services,)  however  great  and  glorious, 
was  far  from  being  so  full  as  that  of  some  other  protestant 
churches,  particularly  that  of  Scotland  ;  so  we  would  fain 
hope  that  when  a  new  and  general  reformation  shall  be  set  on 
foot,  some  more  at  least  of  the  rags  of  that  Romish  church 
shall  be  dropped,  such  as  (abstracting  at  present  from  the  sub- 
ject of  church  government)  many  useless  rites  and  customs 
relating  to  worship,  which  have  no  Scriptural  foundation. 
This  is  what  some  of  the  most  pious  and  learned  divines  of 
your  communion  have  wished  to  see  reformed,  knowing  that 


220         whitefield's   life   and   times. 

many  of  these  were  retained  at  first,  only  under  the  view  of 
reforming  gradually  and  from  some  prudential  considerations ; 
and  knowing  also  that  the  continued  retaining  of  these  things, 
which  the  reforming  fathers  designed  gradually  to  cast  off, 
has  been  more  stumbling  to  the  friends,  than  ever  it  was  gain- 
ing to  the  enemies,  of  the  Reformation.  Therefore,  though 
Providence  at  present  be  making  a  good  use  of  your  being, 
according  to  your  light,  of  that  way,  yet  when  you  are  begin- 
ning, as  it  were,  to  lay  a  new  foundation,  may  the  Lord,  in 
due  time,  enable  you  to  guard  against  such  things  as  may  af- 
terwards prove  a  hinderance  to  a  multitude  of  tender  Chris- 
tians, their  holding  communion  with  you,  as  has  been  the  case 
formerly.  Principiis  ubsta,  is  a  caution  most  necessary  in 
many  cases.  What  the  great  and  famous  reformer  Luther 
retained  from  his  original  Romish  education,  proved  a  sad 
dividing  snare  among  the  protestant  churches  ;  and  since,  by 
the  good  hand  of  God  upon  you,  you  are  so  well  occupied  in 
dashing  down  bigotry  and  party  zeal,  I  hope  the  hint  I  here 
give  you  on  this  head  will  be  the  more  agreeable.  The  first 
and  main  business  no  doubt,  is  to  lay  the  foundation  of  saving 
faith  by  preaching  the  pure  truths  and  precious  doctrines  of 
the  everlasting  gospel,  which  (glory  to  God)  you  are  so  busy 
about,  and  we,  I  hope,  are  joining  heart  and  hand  with  you. 

"  Very  dear  sir,  if  you  and  your  brethren,  whom  I  honour 
and  esteem  in  the  Lord  as  his  eminent  witnesses,  shall  judge 
the  freedom  I  have  here  used  already  to  be  rash  or  unseason- 
able, the  least  challenge  of  this  sort  from  you  shall  be  to  me 
as  excellent  oil  which  shall  not  break  my  head ;  for  I  think  I 
would  choose  to  suffer  many  miseries  rather  than  choose  to 
offend  you.  But,  hoping  my  freedom  shall  rather  be  taken  as 
a  mark  of  that  kindness  of  which  my  heart  is  full,  I  proceed  to 
tell  you  what  may  be  reckoned  exceptionable  in  the  last  jour- 
nal, though,  at  the  same  time,  the  wonders  of  divine  grace 
therein  recorded  were  most  savoury  to  me,  and  to  all  I  have 
spoken  with  upon  it,  and  will,  I  hope,  stir  up  many  to  prayer 
and  praise.  Your  opinion  about  the  business  of  the  attorney 
has,  I  hear,  been  written  of  to  you  already,  and  therefore  I 
shall  say  nothing  of  it.  The  correction  you  gave  to  your 
opinion  of  its  unlawfulness  by  adding  "  at  least  exceedingly 
dangerous,"  satisfied  me.  Some  have  thought  your  love  and 
charity  extended  a  little  too  far  beyond  the  Scripture  rule  in 
some  instances  ;  such  as  Journal  last,  page  59th,  where  you 
say  the  quakers'  notions  about  walking  and  being  led  by  the 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         221 

Spirit,  you  think  are  right  and  good.  Unless  they  be  quakers 
of  another  stamp  than  the  rest,  whose  dangerous  tenets  are 
inconsistent  with  the  right  notion  of  being  led  by  the  Spirit, 
while,  beside  other  things,  they  deny  justification  by  the  im- 
puted righteousness  of  Christ,  or  his  active  and  passive  obe- 
dience received  by  faith,  to  be  the  only  ground  of  justification 
before  God  ;  and  while  thus  they  cannot  receive  Jesus 
Christ,  they  consequently  cannot  walk  in  him,  nor  be  led  by  his 
Spirit,  who  is  the  Spirit  of  truth,  testifying  of  Christ  according 
to  the  revelation  made  of  him  in  the  word,  which  they  contra- 
dict. Whatever  duties  of  love  you  perform  towards  these 
men,  I  will  never  believe  you  mean  or  intend  to  justify  their 
principles  and  delusive  notions. 

"  There  is  a  passage  in  the  same  book,  page  83d,  that  has 
been  improved  against  us  and  our  secession  from  the  judica- 
tories ;  which  yet,  when  I  read  it  over  again,  seems  to  show 
to  me  how  much  you  are  of  our  mind,  and  that  you  would  take 
the  same  course  had  you  been  in  the  same  situation.  You 
very  justly,  I  think,  express  your  dissatisfaction  with  three 
of  your  brethren  that  were  driven  to  deny  Christ's  visible 
church  upon  earth,  and  show  that  needless  separation  from 
the  established  church  would  no  doubt  be  attended  with  ill 
consequences  ;  and  you  judge  of  the  state  of  a  church,  not 
from  the  practice  of  its  members,  but  from  its  primitive  and 
public  constitution.  Hence  to  me  it  would  seem  that  if  even 
the  plurality  of  its  members  meeting  judicially  should  contra- 
dict its  primitive  and  public  constitution,  you  would  see  fit  to 
leave  them  and  cleave  to  the  said  constitution;  which  is  the 
case  with  us  in  our  secession  from  the  present  judicatories  of 
of  the  established  church  of  Scotland.  Such  seem  to  be  the 
defects,  it  is  true,  of  your  ecclesiastical  government  in  Eng-< 
land,  that,  unless  in  the  case  of  a  convocation,  you  can  never 
boast  of  an  ecclesiastical  and  judicial  cleaving  unto,  nor  com-? 
plain  of  a  judicial  seceding  from,  the  primitive  public  consti- 
tution'. But  as  I  make  no  question  but  in  that  case,  you 
would  find  (as  matters  are  at  present  stated  in  England)  there 
would  be  defections  of  the  same  sort  with  you  as  there  are 
with  us,  and  consequently  that  you  would  see  need  to  take  the 
same  course  that  we  of  the  Associate  Presbytery  do ;  so 
while  you  want  the  same  advantages  for  seeing  clearly  when 
it  is  that  defections  are  become  national  and  judicial,  and 
when  there  is  a  universal  practical  departure  from  the  Scrip- 
tural principles  of  the  church  you  profess  yourselves  to  be  of, 

19* 


222  WHITEFIELD'S    LIFE     AND    TIMES. 

it  is  a  question  how  far  it  is  consonant  with  the  word  of  God 
to  maintain  close  communion  with  those  of  that  church  who 
are  either  subverting  its  primitive  public  constitution,  or 
openly  and  avowedly  denying  the  foresaid  principles. 

"  Since  right  communion  is  founded  on  union  in  the  truth, 
at  least  by  some  open  profession  of  it,  which  most  of  your 
clergy  seem  to  have  little  of,  while  they  excommunicate  you 
and  your  brethren  from  the  use  of  their  churches ;  however 
well  ordered  this  also  is  in  providence  for  good,  yet  it  disco- 
vers them  to  be  what  they  are.  You  likewise  add  that  so 
long  as  the  Articles  of  the  church  of  England  are  agreeable 
to  Scripture,  you  resolve  to  preach  them  up,  without  either 
bigotry  or  party  zeal.  This  I  heartily  approve  of,  and  this  is 
the  case  with  us  also.  We  preach  up  and  defend,  doctrinally 
and  judicially,  those  articles  of  the  church  of  Scotland 
agreeable  to  the  Scriptures,  which  the  judicatories  are  letting 
go.  Hence,  I  conclude,  you  seem  to  be  just  of  our  mind  as 
to  separation  from  an  established  church.  We  never  declar- 
ed a  secession  from  the  church  of  Scotland,  but,  on  the  con- 
trary, only  a  secession  from  the  judicatories,  in  their  course 
of  defection  from  the  primitive  and  covenanted  constitution, 
to  which  we  stood  also  bound  by  our  ordination  engagements. 
And  hence,  to  this  day,  we  never  did  quit  our  charges  or  con- 
gregations, to  which  we  were  ordained  by  the  imposition  of 
the  hands  of  our  several  respective  presbyteries,  nor  did  we 
ever  design,  unless  we  were  obliged  by  violence  or  compul- 
sion, so  to  do. 

"As  to  your  sermons,  dear  sir,  I  am  ashamed  you  should 
mention  my  approbation  of  them,  as  if  it  were  of  any  signiti- 
cancy.  The  general  strain  of  your  doctrine  I  love,  admire, 
and  relish,  with  all  my  soul,  and  hope,  through  the  blessing  of 
God,  it  will  do  much  service.  And,  as  to  some  particular  ex- 
pressions which  I  myself  could  not  have  used,  my  love  to 
you  and  my  view  of  the  countenance  of  Heaven  with  you, 
made  me  to  put  such  a  favourable  gloss  upon  them  as  to  dis- 
cern no  odds  betwixt  you  and  us.  But  since  I  am  using  all 
the  kind  freedom  I  can,  1  shall  give  you  some  instances : 

"'Almost  Christian,' penult  page. — 'We  shall  then  look 
back  on  our  past  sincere  and  hearty  services  which  have  pro- 
cured us  so  valuable  a  reward.'  This  I  could  by  no  means 
interpret,  as  if  you  meant  it  to  the  detriment  of  the  doctrine  of 
heaven's  being  a  reward  of  grace  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  not  of 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        223 

debt  to  our  services,  or  of  eternal  life  its  being  the  gift  of  God 
through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord. 

'"Sermon  on  Justification  by  Christ,'  at  the  close. — 'Do 
but  labour  to  attain  that  holiness,  without  which  no  man  shall 
see  the  Lord,  and  then,  though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they 

shall  be  white  as  snow.' 1  could  by  no  means  think  that 

this  was  intended  any  way  to  thwart  the  doctrine  of  free  re- 
mission of  sins  by  the  blood  and  righteousness  of  Christ  only, 
which  is  the  subject  of  the  preceding  sermon  ;  or  to  make 
sanctification  or  labouring  after  holiness,  which  is  the  fruit 
and  evidence,  to  be  the  root,  ground,  cause,  or  condition  of 
forgiveness.  No  ;  I  take  your  view  to  be,  that  in  this  way  of 
labouring  to  attain  holiness,  people  would  evidence  to  them- 
selves and  others,  that  they  were  pardoned  persons  in  Christ, 
or  that  they  could  not  maintain  the  knowledge  or  assurance  of 
it  but  in  this  way  of  holiness. 5 

'"Sermon  on  Phil.  iii.  10,'  page  14. — '  He  has  passed  from 
death  to  life,  and  shall  never,  if  he  stir  up  the  gift  of  God  that 
is  in  him,  fall  into  condemnation.'  This  tifi  here,  I  did  not 
interpret  as  favouring  the  Arminian  error  against  the  certainty 
of  the  perseverance  of  saints  that  are  once  savingly  united  to 
Christ  by  faith  of  the  operation  of  God,  and  passed  from 
death  to  life  ;  but  rather  viewed  it  as  favouring  the  gospel 
doctrine  concerning  the  connexion  betwixt  the  means  and  the 
end,  and  the  necessity  of  the  one  in  order  to  the  other,  though 
both  are  secured  by  promise  to  a  believer  in  Christ. 

"I  was  told  by  one,  that  in  some  part  of  your  works  you 
speak  of  justification  by  the  act  of  believing  ;  but  as  I  notic- 
ed nothing  of  this  in  the  prints,  so  I  affirmed  that  you  had  not 
so  learned  Christ,  as  to  put  the  Arminian  to  credere,  or  any 
thing  done  by  us,  or  wrought  in  us,  in  the  room  of  Christ  and 
his  righteousness,  or  of  his  obedience  and  satisfaction,  which 
alone  received  by  faith,  I  was  sure,  from  your  writings,  you 
would  own  to  be  the  only  matter  and  ground  of  justification. 

"  Again,  though  I  could  not  use  the  English  of  your  Bone 
Dens,  because  profane  persons  here  sometimes  swear  in 
these  terms,  yet,  as  I  know  it  is  common  among  your  writers, 
so,  I  judge,  nothing  is  intended  by  it,  but  a  note  of  astonish- 
ment. 

"  Though  some  of  these  remarks  are,  perhaps,  but  trifling, 
and  not  so  material  as  others  of  them,  I  have  noted  all  down, 
that  I  may  keep  nothing  back  from  you  that  in  the  least  oc- 
curred to  my  mind,  of  any  seeming  dissonancy  betwixt  us  in 


224  WniTEFIELD's     LIFE    AND     TIMES. 

words.  Yet  I  judged,  that,  under  various  ways  of  speaking, 
we  meant  the  same  thing,  and  point  at  the  same  end  ;  and  I  can 
say  before  the  Lord,  I  not  only  approve  of  your  sermons  and 
journals,  but  see  much  matter  of  praise  to  God  for  them.  I  see 
much  of  the  glory  and  majesty  of  God,  and  many  of  the  stately 
steps  and  goings  of  our  mighty  King  Jesus  in  them,  and  have 
at  times;,  with  tears  of  joy,  adored  his  name  for  what  he  is 
doing  for  you  and  by  you,  and  I  pray  for  the  continuance  and 
advancement  of  that  work  of  God.  I  rejoice  that  the  Lord's 
work  is  going  on  with  you,  and  that  days  of  power  continue. 
May  it  do  so  till  all  the  powers  of  darkness  give  way  to  it,  and 
till  every  Dagon  fall  before  the  ark  of  God  ! 

"  Your  way  of  arguing  against  the  apostatizing  clergy  of 
your  church,  in  your  last  sermon,  even  from  the  instances 
drawn  out  of  your  service-book,  may  be  to  them,  I  think, 
arguments  ad  Hominem.  May  the  Lord  bless  it  for  their 
conviction,  and  for  awakening  them  out  of  their  spiritual 
lethargy. 

"  When  I  consider  how  you  and  your  brethren  are  stirred 
up  of  God  to  such  a  remarkable  way  of  witnessing  for  him  in 
England  against  the  corruptions  and  defections  of  that  church, 
and  when  we,  of  the  Associate  Presbytery,  have  been  called 
forth  in  a  judicial  way,  to  witness  against  the  corruptions  and 
defections  of  the  church  of  Scotland,  and  both  at  a  juncture 
when  popish  powers  are  combining  together  against  us,  and 
desolating  judgments  are  justly  threatened  from  Heaven, — 
there  is,  perhaps,  more  in  the  womb  of  providence,  relating 
to  our  several  situations  and  successes  therein,  than  we  are 
aware  of.  What  he  doth  we  know  not  now,  but  we  may  know 
hereafter.  If  he  be  gathering  his  birds  together  before  a 
storm,  according  to  the  call,  Zeph.  i.  1 — 3,  and  Isa.  xxvi. 
20,  21,  glory  to  him  who  doth  all  things  well. 

"  We  have  lately  been  attending  several  sacramental  so- 
lemnities in  our  brethren's  congregations,  where  vast  multi- 
tudes of  people  were  assembled  at  the  tents  without  doors  as 
well  as  in  the  church,  and  I  never  found  more  of  the  presence 
of  God  than  at  some  of  these  occasions.  The  Spirit  of  God 
was  sometimes  remarkably  poured  out,  and  I  hope  the  power 
of  the  Lord  was  present  to  heal  many  souls.  Enemies  gnash 
with  their  teeth,  as  they  do  with  you,  but  the  Lord  carries  on 
his  work.  My  brethren  salute  you  most  affectionately,  they 
love  and  respect  you  in  the  Lord.  Now,  very  dear  sir,  I  have, 
in  this  long  letter,  opened  my  very  heart  unto  you,  and  told 


whitefield's    life   and    times.       225 

you  the  very  worst  thought  that  ever  entered  into  it  concerning 
you  ;  which  I  could  not  have  done,  if  it  were  not  filled  with 
love  to  you.  And  it  loves  you  because  you  love  Christ,  and 
he  loves  you  and  honours  you  ;  and  I  hope  he  will  spare  and 
honour  you  more  and  more,  to  be  a  happy  instrument  in  his 
hand  for  advancing  his  kingdom,  and  pulling  clown  the  throne 
of  iniquity.  May  the  weapons  of  your  warfare  be  more  and 
more  mighty,  through  God,  for  that  end. 

'•  I  am,  rev.  and  dear  sir, 
"  Yours,  most  affectionately  in  our  blessed  Immanuel, 

"Ralph  Erskine. 

"  I  salute  the  worthy  Sewards  and  Wesleys  in  the  Lord." 

This  long  and  open-hearted  epistle  afforded  great  satisfac- 
tion to  Whitefield  ;  as  appears  from  the  following  extract  of 
his  reply  : — 

REV.    G.    WHITEFIELD,    TO    MR.    RALPH    ERSKINE. 

"  Savannah,  Jan.  16th,  1740. 
"  Rev.  and  dear  sir, 

"  With  much  pleasure,  though  not  till  last  week,  I  received 
your  kind,  affectionate  letter.  I  thank  you  for  it  with  all  my 
soul,  and  pray  God  to  reward  you  for  this,  and  all  other  your 
works  of  faith  and  labours  of  love.  You  may  depend  on  my 
not  being  prejudiced  against  you  or  your  brethren  by  any  evil 
report.  They  only  endear  you  to  me  more  and  more;  and 
were  your  enemies  to  represent  you  as  black  as  hell,  I  should 
think  you  were  the  more  glorious  in  the  sight  of  heaven.  Your 
sweet  critrcisms  and  remarks  on  my  journal  and  sermons 
were  exceedingly  acceptable,  and  very  just.  I  assure  you, 
dear  sir,  I  am  fully  convinced  of  the  doctrine  of  election,  free 
justification,  and  final  perseverance.  My  observations  on 
the  quakers  were  only  intended  for  those  particular  persons 
with  whom  I  then  conversed.  The  tenets  of  the  quakers,  in 
general,  about  justification,  I  take  to  be  false  and  unscriptural. 
Your  adversaries  need  take  no  advantage  against  you  by  any 
thing  I  have  written,  for  1  think  it  every  minister's  duty  to 
declare  against  the  corruptions  of  that  church  to  which  they 
belong,  and  not  to  look  upon  those  as  true  members  of  their 
communion,  who  deny  its  public  constitutions.  This  is  your 
case  in  Scotland,  and  ours  in  England.      I  see  no  other  way 


22G         whitefield's   life   and   times. 

for  us  to  act  at  present  than  to  go  on  preaching  the  truth  as  it 
is  in  Jesus  ;  and  then,  if  our  brethren  cast  us  out,  God  will 
direct  us  to  that  course  which  is  most  conducive  to  his  glory 
and  his  people's  good.  I  think  I  have  but  one  objection 
against  your  proceedings — your  insisting  only  on  Presby- 
terian government,  exclusive  of  all  other  ways  of  worshipping 
God. — Your  welfare  is  much  upon  my  heart :  and,  as  I  am 
enabled,  I  make  mention  of  you  in  my  prayers. 

"  Your  weak  unworthy  brother, 

"  and  fellow-labourer  in  Christ, 

"  George  Whitefield." 

In  a  letter  of  nearly  the  same  date,  addressed  to  Mr.  Gil- 
bert Tennent,  Whitefield,  alluding  to  the  above  communica- 
tion, says,  "  Since  my  arrival  here,  I  have  received  a  sweet, 
endearing,  and  instructive  letter,  from  Mr.  Ralph  Erskine." 

About  two  months,  however,  prior  to  the  receipt  of  this 
"endearing"  letter,  Whitefield  had  despatched  three  letters 
from  Philadelphia ;  one  to  the  Associate  Presbytery,  a  second 
to  Ebenezer  Erskine,  and  a  third  to  Ralph  ;  in  all  of  which 
he  solicits  information  about  the  constitution  and  covenants 
of  the  Scotch  kirk,  and  especially  about  the  Cameronians  : 
a  bishop  having  called  the  seceders  by  that  name,  and 
thus  made  him  somewhat  jealous  of  their  spirit.  In  sub- 
sequent letters,  also,  he  repeats  his  determination  to  be  "quite 
neuter  "  on  the  subject  of  church  government  and  reform  in 
Scotland. 

Thus,  never  were  men  more  prepared  to  love  and  welcome 
each  other,  than  Whitefield  and  the  Erskines.  He  thought 
the  Associate  Presbytery  "  a  little  too  hard  upon  "  him,  and 
Ralph  too  much  on  their  side,  in  pressing  him  to  "join  them 
wholly  ; "  but  otherwise,  he  had  great  confidence  in  both 
brothers,  and  they  in  him.  On  his  arrival  in  Edinburgh,  he 
accordingly  resisted  all  applications  made  to  him  to  preach 
there  before  he  went  to  Dunfermline,  although  they  were 
made  to  him  by  persons  of  the  first  distinction  in  the  city.  In 
a  letter  to  a  friend,  he  says,  "  I  determined  to  give  the 
Erskines  the  first  offer  of  my  poor  ministrations,  as  they  gave 
me  the  first  invitation  to  Scotland."  Lett.  337,  vol.  I.  Ralph 
says  of  him,  "  he  came  to  me  over  the  belly  of  vast  opposi- 
tion." Whitefield  says,  "I  was  received  very  lovingly  at 
Dunfermline." 


"Wltl'TEFIRLD's     LIFE     AND     TIMES.  22? 

So  far,  the  interview  was  mutually  gratifying.  Whitefield 
Was  surprised  and  delighted  when  he  preached  in  the  meeting- 
house, to  an  immense  assembly,  by  the  rustling  of  a  host  of 
Bibles  all  at  once,  as  he  gave  out  his  text :  "  a  scene,"  he 
says,  "  I  never  was  witness  to  before  !  "  and  Ralph  was 
equally  pleased  with  the  sermon  and  the  preacher.  He 
wrote  next  day  to  Ebenezer  thus,  "  The  Lord  is  evidently 
with  him  :  "  and  to  Adam  Gibb,  (whose  spirit  seems  to  have 
been  suspicious  of  Whitefield  from  the  first,)  "  I  have  many 
pleasant  things  to  say  of  him  :  "  "I  see  the  Lord  is  with 
him." 

Indeed,  Ralph  did  every  thing  wise  and  kind,  in  order  to 
bring  on  a  happy  meeting  between  Whitefield  and  the  Pres- 
bytery. He  prepared  Ebenezer  for  this,  by  informing  him, 
that  Whitefield  had  "  owned  "  to  him,  on  the  subject  of  his 
ordination,  "  that  he  would  not  have  it  again  in  that  way  for 
a  thousand  worlds  ;  but,  then,  he  knew  no  other  way."  Era- 
ser's Life  of  R.  Erskine,  p.  326.  To  Gibb  he  wrote,  "  He 
designs  and  desires  to  meet  with  the  brethren.  I  expect  he 
will  call  for  you."  Whilst  Ralph  thus  conciliated  the  breth- 
ren, he  was  equally  candid  in  telling  them  what  they  had  to 
expect:  "  As  to  his  preaching,  he  declares  he  can  refuse  no 
call  to  preach,  whoever  gives  it :  were  it  a  Jesuit  or  a  Ma- 
hometan, he  would  embrace  it  for  testifying  against  them." — 
"  I  find  "  (to  Gibb,)  "  his  light  leads  him  to  preach,  even  at 
the  call  of  those  against  whom  he  can  freely  testify.  I  hope 
you  will  inform  Mair  and  Hutton."     Eraser,  327. 

Such  was  the  preliminary  steps  to  an  interview  and  nego- 
ciation,  which  Dr.  Gillies  (himself  of  the  church  party)  has 
abruptly  introduced,  and  hastily  dismissed,  "  as  a  conference 
to  set  Whitefield  right  about  church  government,  and  the  so- 
lemn league  and  covenant."  It  certainly  was  about  these 
points ;  but  as  certainly  not  for  the  sake  of  these  points,  apart 
from  the  spiritual  purposes  they  were  intended  to  answer. 
Besides,  neither  the  church  government,  nor  the  solemn 
league  and  covenant,  were  the  inventions  or  the  peculiarities 
of  the  secession.  Whether  good,  bad,  or  indifferent  things, 
they  were  the  platform  of  the  kirk  of  Scotland.  Willison  of 
Dundee,  sustained  by  a  number  of  the  clergy,  testified  as 
loudly  at  the  time  against  "  denying  the  lawfulness  or  obliga- 
tion of  our  national  covenant  engagements,"  as  Erskine  and 
his  brethren.  Struthers's  Hist.  Scotland.  And  who  does 
not  see,  that  Dr.  Gillies  and  his  party,  had  they  been  negoci- 


228        whitefield's  life  and  times. 

ating  with  Whiteficld  to  join  them,  would  just  have  begun  as 
the  Associate  Presbytery  did,  by  setting  "  right,  about  the 
same  points  1  "  Indeed,  Willison  of  Dundee  did  press  the 
same  points  upon  Whitefield,  by  letter  ;  and  received  from 
him  much  the  same  answer  he  gave  to  the  seceders  :  "  I  wish 
you  would  not  trouble  yourself  or  me,  in  writing  about  the 
corruptions  of  the  church  of  England.  You  seem  not  satisfied 
methinks,  unless  I  openly  renounce  the  church  of  England, 
and  declare  myself  a  presbyterian.  Your  letter  gave  me 
some  little  concern.  I  thought  it  breathed  a  sectarian  spirit, 
to  which  I  hoped  dear  Mr.  W.  was  quite  averse.  I  have 
shown  my  freedom  in  communicating  with  the  church  of 
Scotland,  and  in  baptizing  children  in  their  own  way.  /  can 
go  no  further."     Lett.  p.  429. 

Thus  the  secession  were  not  the  only  sticklers  for  presby- 
terianism.  They  made  it,  however,  what  the  clergy  did  not, 
the  condition  of  employing  Whitefield.  His  own  account  of 
the  negociation  with  the  Presbytery,  although  graphic,  is 
rather  too  humoursome  for  the  gravity  of  history,  when  the 
facts  affect  a  body  of  Christians.  Whilst  therefore,  I  ad- 
mire the  candour  of  Eraser  in  giving  Whitefield's  half-play- 
ful letter  first,  I  prefer  to  give  the  Presbytery's  own  narra- 
tive first;  because  the  transaction  involves  their  character 
most,  and  because  their  subsequent  attacks  on  Whitefield 
were  far  more  inexcusable  than  their  treatment  of  him  at 
Dunfermline. 

The  official  minutes  of  this  conference  are,  I  am  afraid, 
irrecoverably  lost.  That  they  did  exist  is,  however,  evident 
from  a  letter  to  Gibb,  from  Ralph  Erskine,  requesting  a  copy 
of  them.  "  I  expected  before  this  time  a  copy  of  the  con- 
versation we  had  with  Mr.  Whitefield  in  this  place.  I  have 
some  occasions  that  require  my  having  it.  Therefore,  please 
send  me,  if  you  can,  a  copy  with  this  post."      Eraser's  Life. 

This  letter  makes  it  highly  probable,  that  the  following 
original  memorandum,  written  about  the  time  by  Ebenezer 
Erskine,  is  substantially  correct,  so  far  as  it  goes.  It  was 
copied  verbatim  from  the  short-hand  characters  of  Erskine,  in 
a  note-book  recently  discovered  by  Fraser.  "  Here  folloios 
an  account  of  a  conversation  held  with  Mr.  Whitefield  at 
Dunfermline,  Wednesday,  Aug.  5th,  174 1.  The  ministers  of 
the  Presbi/tert/  present  were  Messrs.  Ralph  and  Ebenezer 
Erskine,   Mr.   Moncrieff,  Mr.    Gibb,   Messrs.    Thomas  and 


WHITE  FIELD'S     LIFE     AND     TIMES.  229 

James  il/air,   Mr.  Clarkson  ;    and  two  elders,   namely ■    Mr. 
James  Wardlaw,  and  Mr.  John  Mowbray." 

"  We,  being  advertised  to  be  here  this  day,  by  a  letter  from 
Mr.  Ralph  Erskine,  who  had  formed  the  tryst  with  Mr. 
Whitefield  ;  Mr.  Ralph's  letter  bearing,  that  Mr.  Whitefield 
desired  the  conference,  &c,  and  that  he  had  yielded  so  far 
to  him,  as  to  his  episcopal  ordination,  that  he  would  not  take 
it  again  for  a  thousand  worlds  ;  but  at  the  time  he  knew  no 
better. 

"  Upon  Tuesday  night,  .when  we  arrived  at  the  place,  we 
waited  upon  Mr.  W.  at  Mr.  Erskine's  house;  where  and 
when  we  had  some  conversation  about  several  things  relating 
to  the  state  of  affairs  in  the  church. 

"  Wednesday  forenoon,  the  ministers  and  elders  above 
mentioned,  met  with  Mr.  Whitefield,  in  consequence  of  a  let- 
ter from  Mr.  Ralph  Erskine,  desiring  they  would  have  a  con- 
ference with  him  :  and  they  having  met  as  above,  a  motion 
was  made  that  Mr.  Ebenezer  Erskine  pray  before  they  enter- 
ed upon  conversation.  As  Mr.  Whitefield  showed  an  inclin- 
ation to  proceed  to  a  conference  about  toleration  for  a  time, 
it  was  proposed,  that,  seeing  toleration  of  all  sects  by  a  church 
is  an  opinion  of  his,  as  supported  by  some  scriptures, — it  was 
thought  fit  to  consider,  what  is  that  form  of  government  Christ 
has  laid  down  in  his  word?  And,  agreeably  to  this,  Mr. 
Whitefield  put  the  question,  Whether  presbyterian  govern- 
ment be  that  which  is  agreeable  to  the  pattern  shown  in  the 
mount  1  And  supposing  that  it  is, — if  it  excluded  a  tolera- 
tion of  such  as  independents,  anabaptists,  and  episcopalians, 
among  whom  are  good  men? 

"  Mr.  Ebenezer  Erskine  said  to  him,  '  Sir,  God  has  made 
you  an  instrument  of  gathering  a  great  multitude  of  souls  to 
the  faith  and  profession  of  the  gospel  of  Christ,  throughout 
England  and  in  foreign  parts  :  and  now  it  is  fit — that  you 
should  be  considering  how  that  body  is  to  be  organized  and 
preserved  ;  which  cannot  be  done  without  following  the  ex- 
ample of  Paul  and  Barnabas,  who,  when  they  had  gathered 
churches  by  preaching  the  gospel,  visited  them  again,  and  or- 
dained over  them  elders  in  every  city ;  which  you  cannot  do 
alone,  without  some  two  or  three  met  together  in  a  judicative 
capacity,  in  the  name  of  the  Lord.' 

"  Unto  all  which   Mr.  Whitefield  replied,  (how  like  him!) 
that  he  reckoned  it  his  present  duty  to  go  on  in  preaching  the 
gospel,  without  proceeding  to  any  such  work. 
20 


230       whitefield's    life    and    times. 

"  It  was  urged,  that  it  might  please  the  Lord  to  call  him 
(by  death  ;)  and  in  that  case,  there  being  none  other,  the  flock 
might  be  scattered,  and  fall  into  the  hands  of  grievous  wolves, 
without  any  to  care  for  them.  He  said,  that  he  being  of  the 
communion  of  the  church  of  England,  had  none  to  join  him 
in  that  work  ;  and  that  he  had  no  freedom  to  separate  from 
the  church  of  England,  until  they  did  cast  him  out  or  excom- 
municate him." 

Here,  unhappily,  Erskine's  memorandum  closes  ;    and,  to 
his  honour,  it  contains  no  reflections  upon  the  spirit  of  White- 
field,   although  he  said  some  sharp  things,  which  must  have 
been  not  a  little  trying  to  the  patience  of  stanch  presbyterians. 
Neither  Whitefield,   nor  the   Presbytery,  however,   were  so 
calm  as  they  appear  in  this  still-life  picture ;   Dr.  Jamieson 
himself  being  the  judge.     When  he  animadverted  upon  Row- 
land Hill's  "  Journal  of  a  Tour  in  Scotland,"  he  said,  "  That, 
after  a  good  deal  of  reasoning  (there  was  some  railing  too) 
as  to  a  particular  form  of  church  government  being  prescrib- 
ed in  Scripture,  Mr.  Whitefield,  laying  his  hand  on  his  heart, 
said,  '  I  do  not  find  it  here.'     Mr.  A.  Moncrieff,  who  was  of 
a  warm  temper,  giving  a  rap  on  the  Bible,  which  was  lying  on 
the  table,   said,  '  But  I  find  it  here.'  "     The  Doctor  adds, 
"  On  this,  if  I  mistake  not,  the  conversation  terminated  ;   and 
it  has  still  been  asserted,  that  the  proper  ground  of  their  giv- 
ing  up   any  connexion  with  Mr.  Whitefield  was — his   denial 
that  any  particular  form  of  church  government  was  of  divine 
authority ;  and  declaring  his  resolution  to  maintain  this  in  his 
public  ministrations."     So  thought  and  wrote  Dr.  Jamieson, 
who  was  not  there  :  not  so,  however  did  Whitefield  think  or 
write.     I  keep  out  of  the  question  still,  his  playful  letter,  as 
it  is  called,  because  Fraser  says,  that  "  it  has  been  eagerly 
appealed  to  by  writers,   who  wished  to  expose  the  Associate 
Presbytery  to  ridicule  and  contempt."     Besides,  it  was  a  let- 
ter to  Noble,  of  New-York,  in   answer  to  one  about  a  new 
synod  by  the  Tennents  ;  and  thus  had  a  purpose  to  answer  in 
America,  which  warranted,  what  Fraser  calls,  "  its  indica- 
tions "   of  Whitefield's    "  constitutional   vein   for   humour." 
None  of  these  objections,  if  they  be  such,  lie  against  the  fol- 
lowing letters,   which  were   written  "  weeping,"  and  to  men 
who  knew  the  facts  of  the  Dunfermline  conference.     Now, 
on  the  eighth  day  after  it,  Whitefield  wrote  thus  to  one  of  the 
sons  of  Ebenezer  Erskine,  at  Stirling  :  "  The  treatment  I  met 
with  from  the  Associate  Presbytery  was  not  altogether  such 


whitefield's  life    and   times.         231 

as  I  expected.  It  grieved  me,  as  much  as  it  did  you.  I 
could  scarce  refrain  from  bursting  into  a  flood  of  tears.  I 
wish  all  were  like-minded  with  your  honoured  father  and 
uncle :  matters  would  not  then  be  carried  on  with  so  high  a 
hand.  Such  violent  methods — such  a  narrow  way  of  acting 
— can  never  be  the  way  to  promote  and  enlarge  the  kingdom 
of  our  blessed  Jesus. 

"  It  surely  must  be  wrong  to  forbid  even  our  hearing — 
those  who  love  our  Lord  Jesus  in  sincerity,  and  have  also 
been  owned  of  him.     Christ  would  not  have  done  so." 

"  Supposing  the  scheme  of  government  for  which  the  Asso- 
ciate Presbytery  contend  to  be  Scriptural  ;  yet,  forbearance 
and  long-suffering  is  to  be  exercised  towards  such  as  may  dif- 
fer from  them.  I  am  verily  persuaded  there  is  no  such  form 
of  government  prescribed  in  the  book  of  God,  as  excludes  a 
toleration  of  all  other  forms  whatsoever.  Were  the  Associate 
Presbytery  scheme  to  take  effect,  they  must,  out  of  con- 
science, if  they  acted  consistently,  restrain  and  grieve,  if  not 
persecute,  many  of  God's  children,  who  could  not  possibly 
come  in  to  their  measures ;  and  I  doubt  not  but  their  present 
violent  methods,  together  with  the  corruptions  of  the  Assem- 
bly, will  cause  many  to  become  independents,  and  set  up  par- 
ticular churches  of  their  own.  This  was  the  effect  of  Arch- 
bishop Laud's  acting  with  so  high  a  hand  ;  and  whether  it  be 
presbytery  or  episcopacy,  if  managed  in  the  same  manner,  it 
will  be  productive  of  the  same  effects.  Blessed  be  God,  I 
have  not  so  learned  Christ !  "  Letter  347.  Would  any  man 
in  his  senses  have  written  thus  to  David  Erskine,  had  there 
been  nothing  more  violent  at  Dunfermline  than  MoncriefF's 
rap  on  the  table  ;  or  had  nothing  been  insisted  upon  but  the 
divine  authority  of  presbytery  ?  This  letter  both  implies  and 
asserts  the  avowal  of  intolerance,  on  the  part  of  all  but  the 
Erskines  :  and  even  they  wanted  to  shackle  Whitefield  with 
all  the  links  of  their  own  chain  of  exclusiveness.  Ralph  for- 
got himself  so  far,  as  to  suspect  and  insinuate,  in  a  letter, 
that  Whitefield  temporized  for  the  sake  of  the  orphans.  This 
fact  does  not  appear  in  the  "  previous  jottings,  which  show 
the  scope  of  that  letter  ;  "  (Fraser  ;)  but  it  appears  in  the  dig- 
nified and  indignant  answer  :  "  Indeed,  dear  sir,  you  mistake 
if  you  think  I  temporize  on  account  of  the  orphans.  Be  it 
far  from  me  !  I  abhor  the  very  thought  of  it.  I  proceed 
now — just  as  I  have  done,  ever  since  I  came  out  in  the  minis- 
try." Lett.  350. 


232         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

Even  the  "jottings  "  charge  Whitefield  (in  "  sorrow  "  in- 
deed) with  "  coming  harnessed  with  a  resolution,  to  stand  out 

against  every  thing  that  might  be  said  against ;  "  and 

with  not  "  lying  open  to  light,"  but  "declining  conversation 
on  that  head."  Now,  whatever  this  mean,  the  answer  is  un- 
equivocal :  "  I  thank  you  for  your  kind  letter.  I  believe  it 
proceeded  from  love  ;  but,  as  yet,  I  cannot  think  the  solemn 
league  and  covenant  any  way  binding  upon  me.  You  seem 
to  think,  I  am  not  open  to  light.  That  I  may  give  you  satis- 
faction on  that  head,  1  am  willing  to  confer  with  Mr.  W , 

at  Perth,  on  Thursday,  Sept.  3d."  Ibid.  Whitefield  takes 
no  notice  of  the  charge  of  "  coming  harnessed  "  to  the  con- 
ference. Perhaps  Erskine  softened  it  in  the  letter.  If  this 
was  not  the  case,  then  Whitefield  did  not  condescend  to  no- 
tice it.  Something  equivalent,  however,  was  in  the  letter. 
Erskine  says  of  it,  to  Gibb,  "  I  have  sent  Mr.  Whitefield  this 
day  a  letter,  wherein  I  used  much  plainness  with  him,  on  ac- 
count of  his  declining  conversation  with  us  upon  church  go- 
vernment, and  upon  the  influence  I  dreaded  he  is  now  under; 
although  all  my  plainness  was  in  the  most  kindly  way." 
Fraser,  p.  335. 

Fraser  refers  this  "  influence  and  harnessing  "  to  "  preju- 
dices infused  into  Whitefield's  mind  against  the  ministers  of 
the  Secession,  and  the  cause  in  which  they  had  embarked,  at 
the  very  moment  of  his  first  landing  in  Scotland."  In  proof 
of  this,  he  quotes  the  fact,  that  Whitefield  was  "  met  and  en- 
tertained at  Edinburgh,  by  Dr.  Webster  and  some  of  his 
brethren  ;  from  whom  he  learned  the  state  of  church  preju- 
dices and  parties  in  Scotland."  There  can  be  no  doubt  of 
the  truth  of  this.  It  is,  however,  equally  true,  that  he  found 
the  Associate  Presbytery  to  be  as  intolerant  as  their  enemies 
had  represented  them :  and  if  any  thing  worse  was  said 
against  them,  in  his  hearing,  it  did  not  prevent  him  from  visit- 
ing them,  nor  from  treating  them  as  brethren  in  Christ.  Even 
in  his  playful  letter  (which  I  now  subjoin)  there  is  as  much 
kindliness  as  humour. 

TO    MR.    THOMAS    NOBLE,    AT    NEW-YORK. 

"  Edinburgh,  Aug.  8th,  1741. 

"  My  dear  brother, 
u I  have  written  you  several  letters;  and  I  rejoice  tohear  that 
the  work  of  the  Lord  prospers  in  the  hands  of  Messrs.  Ten- 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       233 

nents,  &c.  ;  am  glad  they  intend  to  meet  in  a  synod  by  them- 
selves. Their  catholic  spirit  will  do  good.  The  Associate 
Presbytery  here  arc  so  confined,  that  they  will  not  so  much 
as  hear  me  preach,  unless  I  only  will  join  with  them.     Mr. 

Ralph  E ,  indeed,  did  hear  me,  and  went  up  with  me  into 

the  pulpit  of  the  Canongate  church.  The  people  were  ready 
to  shout  for  joy  ;  but,  I  believe,  it  gave  offence  to  his  associ-> 
ates.  I  met  most  of  them,  according  to  appointment,  on 
Wednesday  last — a  set  of  grave,  venerable  men  !  They 
soon  agreed  to  form  themselves  into  a  presbytery,  and  were 
proceeding  to  choose  a  moderator. — I  asked  them  for  what 
purpose  1  They  answered,  to  discourse,  and  set  me  right, 
about  the  matter  of  church  government,  and  the  solemn  league 
and  covenant.  I  replied,  they  might  save  themselves  that 
trouble,  for  I  had  no  scruples  about  it ;  and  that  settling 
church  government,  and  preaching  about  the  solemn  league 
and  covenant,  was  not  my  plan.  I  then  told  them  something 
of  my  experience,  and  how  I  was  led  out  into  my  present 
way  of  acting.  One  in  particular  said,  he  was  deeply  affect- 
ed ;  and  the  dear  Mr.  E desired  they  would  have  patience 

with  me,  for  that,  having  been  born  and  bred  in  England,  and 
never  studied  the  point,  I  could  not  be  supposed  to  be  so  per- 
fectly acquainted  with  the  nature  of  their  covenants.  One, 
much  warmer  than  the  rest,  immediately  replied,  '  that  no  in- 
dulgence was  to  be  shown  me  ;  that  England  had  revolted 
most  with  respect  to  church  government ;  and  that  I,  born 
and  educated  there,  could  not  but  be  acquainted  with  the  mat- 
ter now  in  debate.'  I  told  him  I  had  never  yet  made  the  so- 
lemn league  and  covenant  the  object  of  my  study,  being  too 
busy  about  matters,  as  I  judged,  of  greater  importance.  Sev- 
eral replied,  that  every  pin  of  the  tabernacle  was  precious. — 
I  said,  that  in  every  building  there  were  outside  and  inside 
workmen  ;  that  the  latter,  at  present,  was  my  province  ;  that 
if  they  thought  themselves  called  to  the  former,  they  might 
proceed  in  their  own  way,  and  I  should  proceed  in  mine.  I 
then  asked  them  seriously  what  they  would  have  me  to  do ; 
the  answer  was,  that  I  was  not  desired  to  subscribe  immedi- 
ately to  the  solemn  league  and  covenant,  but  to  preach  only 
for  them  till  I  had  further  light.     I  asked,  why  only  for  them  1 

Mr.  Ralph  E said,  '  they  were  the  Lord's  people.'  I  then 

asked,  whether  there  were  no  other  Lord's  people  but  them- 
selves ?  and  supposing  all  others  were  the  devil's  people, 
they  certainlv  had  more  need  to  be  preached  to,  and  therefore 

20* 


234        whitefield's    life    and    times. 

I  was  more  and  more  determined  to  go  out  into  the  highways 
and  hedges  ;  and  that  if  the  pope  himself  would  lend  me  his 
pulpit,  I  would  gladly  proclaim  the  righteousness  of  Jesus 
Christ  therein.  Soon  after  this,  the  company  broke  up  ;  and 
one  of  these,  otherwise  venerable  men,  immediately  went  into 
the  meeting-house,  and  preached  upon  these  words,  '  Watch- 
man, what  of  the  night  l  Watchman,  what  of  the  night?  The 
watchman  said,  The  morning  cometh,  and  also  the  night,  if 
ye  will  inquire,  inquire  ye  ;  return,  come.'  I  attended  ;  but 
the  good  man  so  spent  himself  in  the  former  part  of  his  ser- 
mon, in  talking  against  prelacy,  the  common-prayer  book, 
the  surplice,  the  rose  in  the  hat,  and  such  like  externals,  that 
when  he  came  to  the  latter  part  of  his  text,  to  invite  poor  sin- 
ners to  Jesus  Christ,  his  breath  was  so  gone,  that  he  could 
scarce  be  heard.  What  a  pity  that  the  last  was  not  first,  and 
the  first  last!  The  consequence  of  all  this  was,  an  open 
breach.  I  retired,  I  wept,  I  prayed,  and  after  preaching  in 
the  fields,  sat  down  and  dined  with  them,  and  then  took  a  final 
leave.  At  table,  a  gentlewoman  said,  she  had  heard  that  I 
had  told  some  people,  that  the  Associate  Presbytery  were 
building  a  Babel.  I  said,  '  Madam,  it  is  quite  true  ;  and  I 
believe  the  Babel  will  soon  fall  down  about  their  ears  :  '  but 
enough  of  this.  Lord,  what  is  man,  what  the  best  of  men,  but 
men  at  the  best?  I  think  I  have  now  seen  an  end  of  all  per- 
fection. Our  brethren  in  America,  blessed  be  God,  have  not 
so  learned  Christ.   Be  pleased  to  inform  them  of  this  letter." 

Now,  certainly,  had  it  not  been  for  the  use  made  of  this 
letter  by  the  enemies  of  the  Secession — who  interpreted  the 
prophecy,  and  wielded  the  wit  of  it  wantonly — it  requires  no 
apology.  It  is  as  true  as  it  is  graphic  ;  not,  perhaps,  to  the 
very  letter  of  the  scene,  but  to  the  spirit  of  it.  It  just  em- 
bodies, in  lively  forms,  the  very  ideas  suggested  by  the  preced- 
ing details.  Even  the  prophecy  in  it  was  sufficiently  fulfill- 
ed, to  accredit  the  foresight  of  Whitefield.  Enough  of  what 
was  "Babel  "  in  the  synod,  soon  fell  down  "about their  ears." 
The  division  of  the  Secession,  in  1747,  into  burghers  and 
antiburghers,  with  the  bitter  controversy  it  originated,  was 
more  than  enough  to  justify  the  prediction.  Even  Fraser 
applies  to  that  sharp  contention  father  Paul's  proverb,  that 
"  In  verbal  contentions,  the  smallness  of  the  difference  often 
nourishes  the  obstinacy  of  the  parties."  It  was  not,  therefore 
necessary  to  rebut  Whitefield's  prophecy,  even  if  it  was  utter- 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         235 

ed  with  "  oracular  solemnity,"  by  the  fact,  that  the  edifice  of 
the  Secession  "  has  now  lasted  for  almost  a  century,"  and 
was  not  "  so  obnoxious  to  the  frowns  of  Heaven,  as  that  good 
man  imagined."  Eraser's  E.  Erskine.  Had  that  "  good 
man  "  seen  it  as  it  now  subsists,  he  would  have  been  as  ready 
as  Fraser  or  Jamieson  to  say,  "  the  Secession  church  has 
become  a  fair,  strong,  and  extensive  fabric, — in  no  great  dan- 
ger of  soon  tumbling  into  ruins."  Ibid. 

The  bad  use  made  of  this  far-famed  letter,  by  Sir  Harry 
Moncrieff  and  others,  in  order  to  ridicule  the  Secession,  and 
caricature  its  venerable  founders,  has  tempted  Fraser  to  find 
more  fault  with  the  letter  than  it  is  really  chargeable  with,  or 
than  he  could  justify.  Hence  he  has  quoted  from  a  Review 
of  Sir  Harry's  Life  in  "The  Christian  Repository,"  the  un- 
christian assertion,  that  "  no  one,  who  knew  any  thing  of 
Ralph  Erskine,  will  for  a  moment  believe  that  he  would  have 
said  of  the  Seceders,  'we  are  the  Lord's  people.'"  It  is  be- 
lieved by  many  who  know  and  believe  that  Ralph  Erskine,  a 
year  before  this  time,  and  many  times  in  later  years,  said, 
"We  are  far  from  thinking  all  are  Christ's  friends  that  join 
with  us,  or  that  all  are  His  enemies  that  do  not.  No,  in- 
deed !  This  would  be  to  cast  off  all  that  have  Christ's  image — 
unless  they  have  our  image  too."     Fraser. 

There  is  so  much  candour  characterizes  Fraser's  version 
of  these  transactions,  that  I  am  unwilling  to  criticize  his  nar- 
rative. It  is,  however,  impossible  to  agree  with  him  in  his 
conclusion — "  that  considerate  and  unbiassed  judges  will  see 
cause,  on  the  whole,  to  conclude  that  Mr.  Whitefield  and  the 
Associate  Presbytery  parted  in  a  manner,  which  has  left  no 
credit  to  either  party."  Neither  the  manner  nor  the  spirit  of 
Whitefield's  parting  reflects  any  discredit  upon  him. 

In  Edinburgh  the  issue  of  this  negociation  was  waited  for 
with  more  than  curiosity.  The  clergy  welcomed  Whitefield's 
return  to  their  pulpits  in  the  city  as  a  triumph  to  the  kirk  : 
and  it  was  a  triumph  at  the  time.  As  such,  however,  he 
cared  nothing  about  it.  He  forgot,  equally,  the  joy  of  the 
kirk,  and  the  mortification  of  the  chapel,  in  seeking  the 
triumphs  of  the  cross.  Whilst  churchmen  were  pluming 
themselves  on  their  gain,  and  seceders  trying  to  despise  their 
loss,  he  was  singing  with  Paul,  "  Now  thanks  be  unto  God, 
who  always  causeth  us  to  triumph  in  Christ,  and  maketh 
manifest  by  us  the  savour  of  His  knowledge  in  every  place." 
It  was  manifested  in  Edinburgh,  and  became  "  the  savour  of 


236       whttefield's    life    and    times. 

life  unto  life"  to  very  many  in  all  ranks.  For  some  weeks 
he  preached  twice  or  thrice  every  clay  in  the  churches,  and  re- 
newed in  the  orphan-house  park  the  scenes  of  Moorfields  and 
Blackheath.  He  obtained  also  £500  for  his  orphans,  in  mo- 
ney or  goods. 

The  latter  was  a  timely  help  to  him.  How  much  he  felt 
this  will  be  best  told  by  himself.  In  a  letter  to  Mr.  Haber- 
sham, he  says,  "  0  my  dear  friend,  how  faithful  is  the  Lord 
Jesus !  He  has  enabled  me  to  pay  my  brother,  and  Mr. 
Noble's  bill  of  £300.  I  have  sent  you  £70  worth  of  different 
sorts  of  goods  to  be  disposed  of,  and  the  money  applied  to  the 
orphan-house.  I  have  sent  also  six  hundred  yards  of  cloth, 
a  present  of  my  own,  to  make  the  boys  and  girls  gowns  and 
coats.  You  will  find  some  damask  table  cloths,  which  I  de- 
sire you  will  sell,  they  being  too  good,  in  my  opinion,  for  our 
use." 

Whitefield  could  not  appreciate  the  moral  value  of  this  last 
gift ;  but  all  Scotchmen  well  understand  the  sacrifice  made 
by  Scotchwomen,  in  thus  contributing  damask  nappery!  It 
was  next  to  parting  with  their  wedding  ring.  Had  he  known 
this,  he  would  not  have  sold  the  table  cloths  ! 

Such  presents  in  money  or  goods  were  new  things  in  Edin- 
burgh then,  and,  of  course,  misrepresented  by  many.  Some 
were  alarmed,  lest  he  should  "  impoverish  the  country  !  "  His 
answer  to  all  insinuations  of  this  kind  was,  "  I  value  them  not 
in  the  least.  My  largest  donations  are  from  the  rich  and  sub- 
stantial. The  mites  which  the  lower  sort  of  the  people  have 
given,  will  not  prevent  them  from  paying  their  debts,  nor  im- 
poverish their  families."  When,  however,  it  was  proposed  to 
make  a  contribution  in  Edinburgh  for  himself,  although  pri~ 
vattly,  he  changed  his  tone,  and  said, — "I  know  nothing  of — 
and  will  not  admit  of  any  such  thing !  I  make  no  purse. 
What  I  have  I  give  away.  'Poor,  yet  making  many  rich, 
shall  be  my  motto  still."     Letter. 

Whitefield's  own  accounts  of  the  success  of  the  gospel  in 
Edinburgh  at  this  time,  although  flaming,  are  not  exaggerated. 
Dr.  Muir,  who  witnessed  the  effect,  says,  "  Upon  the  whole, 
we  hope  there  is  such  a  flame  kindled,  as  shall  never  be  ex- 
tinguished. The  ministers  are  learning  to  speak  with  new 
tongues."  Edin.  Meinoir.  The  only  drawback  upon  the 
following  accounts  is,  an  appearance  of  vanity,  when  the  no- 
bility are  mentioned  ;  and  of  flattery,  when  they  are  address- 
ed.    Dr.  Southey  says  truly,  that  "Wesley  would  not  have 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        237 

written  in  this  strain  :  "  but  it  is  equally  true,  that  Jeremy 
Taylor,  and  Dr.  Donne,  wrote  both  letters  and  dedications 
quite  as  fulsome,  and  more  servile  ;  and  which  "  might  well 
provoke  disgust  and  indignation,  were  not  the  real  genius  and 
piety  of  the  writers  beyond  all  doubt."  Soutkey's  Wesley, 
p.  360,  vol.  2. 

To  Habersham,  Whitefield  writes  from  Edinburgh  thus, 
"God  is  pleased  to  bless  my  ministrations  here  in  an  abun- 
dant manner.  The  little  children  in  the  hospitals  are  much 
wrought  upon.  Saints  have  been  stirred  up  and  edified,  and 
many  others,  I  believe,  translated  from  darkness  to  light. 
The  good  that  has  been  done  is  inexpressible.  I  am  intimate 
with  three  noblemen,  and  several  ladies  of  quality,  who  have 
a  great  liking  for  the  things  of  God.  I  am  now  writing  in  an 
earl's  house,  (Melville,)  surrounded  by  fine  furniture  ;  but, 
glory  be  to  free  grace,  my  soul  is  in  love  only  with  Jesus." 

To  Cennick  he  wrote,  "  This  day  Jesus  enabled  me  to 
preach  seoen  times  ;  notwithstanding,  I  am  as  fresh  as  when  I 
arose  in  the  morning.  Both  in  the  church  and  park  the  Lord 
was  with  us.  The  girls  in  the  hospital  were  exceedingly  af- 
fected. One  of  the  mistresses  told  me,  that  she  is  now  awa- 
kened in  the  morning  by  the  voice  of  prayer  and  praise  ;  and 
the  master  of  the  boys  says,  that  they  meet  together  every 
night  to  sing  and  pray.  The  presence  of  God  at  the  old  peo- 
ple's hospital  was  really  very  wonderful.  The  Holy  Spirit 
seemed  to  come  down  like  a  rushing  mighty  wind.  The 
mourning  of  the  people  was  like  the  weeping  in  the  valley  of 
Hadadrimmon.  Every  day  I  hear  of  some  fresh  good 
wrought  by  the  power  of  God.  I  scarce  know  how  to  leave 
Scotland." 

Thus  the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  young  and  the  old,  not  only 
heard  him  gladly,  but  melted  down  alike  under  his  preaching  ; 
and  that — in  Scotland,  where  the  melting  mood  is  not  predo- 
minant. And  then,  Whitefield's  doctrine  was  not  new  to  them 
as  a  people,  as  it  was  to  the  English.  Why,  therefore,  do  we 
see  nothing  of  this  kind  now,  upon  a  large  scale,  in  either 
England  or  Scotland?  The  gospel  is  widely  and  faithfully 
preached  in  both  ;  but  not  with  remarkable  success  in  ei- 
ther. This  is  not  satisfactorily  explained  by  saying,  that  a 
greater  blessing  attended  Whitefield's  ministry  than  follows 
ours.  The  fact  is,  that  the  outpouring  of  the  Spirit  on  his 
audiences  was  preceded  by  an  unction  of  the  Spirit  on  his  own 
soul,  which  we  hardly  understand,  and  still  less  cultivate. 


238     whitefield's    life    and    times. 

What  a  heart  he  had  in  Edinburgh!  He  does  not,  indeed,  al- 
ways describe  its  emotions  in  good  taste  ;  but  alas  for  the 
man,  and  especially  the  minister,  who  can  read  the  bursts  and 
outpourings  of  George  Whitefield's  heart,  without  shame,  or 
without  feeling  his  own  heart  burn  to  share  them  !  "  Night 
and  day  Jesus  fills  me  with  his  love." — "The  love  of  Christ 
strikes  me  quite  dumb." — "  I  walk  continually  in  the  com- 
forts of  the  Holy  Ghost." — "  My  heart  is  melted  down 
with  the  love  of  Jesus." — "  I  despair  not  of  seeing  Scot- 
land like  New  England."  —  "I  want  a  thousand  tongues 
to  set  oft"  the  great  Redeemer's  praise." — "I  am  daily  wait- 
ing for  the  coming  of  the  Son  of  God." — "  I  every  morn- 
ing feel  my  fellowship  with  Christ,  and  he  gives  me  all  joy 
and  peace  in  believing." — "  The  sight  I  have  of  God  by 
faith  ravishes  my  soul  :  how  I  shall  be  ravished  when  I 
see  him  face  to  face  !  " — "  I  would  leap  my  seventy  years, 
and  fly  into  His  presence."  All  this  is  as  burning  as  abrupt. 
He  lived,  and  moved,  and  had  his  being,  in  this  warm  and 
pure  element;  and  thus  preached,  not  only  in  dependence  on 
the  Holy  Spirit,  but  "  in  demonstration  of  the  Spirit  and  in 
power."  Thus  the  holy  oil  which  anointed  so  many  under 
him,  had  first  been  poured  on  his  own  head.  I  have  endea- 
voured to  illustrate  this  fact  in  another  part  of  the  volume. 
In  the  mean  time,  however,  I  cannot  quit  this  hint,  without 
solemnly  reminding  myself  and  others,  that  we  can  be  White- 
field's  in  unction,  although  not  in  energy  or  eloquence  ;  we 
can  walk  with  God  as  he  did,  although  unable  to  "go  about" 
doing  good  upon  his  scale. 

The  results  of  his  first  visit  to  Edinburgh  are  thus  summed 
up  by  himself:  "  Glory  be  to  God;  he  is  doing  great  things 
here.  I  walk  in  the  continual  sunshine  of  his  countenance. 
Never  did  I  see  so  many  Bibles,  nor  people  looking  into  them 
with  such  attention,  when  I  am  expounding.  Plenty  of  tears 
flow  from  hearers'  eyes.  I  preach  twice  daily,  and  expound 
at  private  houses  at  night ;  and  am  employed  in  speaking  to 
souls  under  distress  great  part  of  the  day.  Every  morning  I 
have  a  constant  levee  of  wounded  souls,  many  of  whom  are 
quite  slain  by  the  law.  I  have  a  lecture  in  the  fields,  attend- 
ed not  only  by  the  common  people,  but  persons  of  great  rank. 
I  have  reason  to  think  some  of  the  latter  sort  are  coming  to 
Jesus.  I  am  only  afraid,  lest  people  should  idolize  the  in- 
strument, and  not  look  enough  to  Jesus,  in  whom  alone  I  de- 
sire to  glory." 


whitefield's   life   and   times.         239 

Scotland,  and  especially  Edinburgh,  owes  much  to  this 
visit.  Any  check  it  gave  to  the  secession  for  a  time,  was 
more  than  counterbalanced  by  the  impulse  it  gave  to  the 
establishment.  The  evangelical  clergy  had  as  much  need  of 
a  commanding  ally,  as  the  Associate  Presbytery  ;  and,  in 
general,  as  well  deserved  the  weight  and  fame  of  Whitefield's 
name.  That  name  drew  on  their  side  some  of  the  peerage, 
who  would  never  have  followed  him  into  a  chapel  ;  and  thus 
strengthened  the  hands  of  "  the  wild  men,"  (as  the  evangeli- 
cal party  were  called,)  when  they  were  but  weak.  Edin- 
burgh should  never  forget  this.  Next  to  Knox,  Whitefield 
deserves  a  monument  on  the  Calton  Hill,  as  the  second  reform- 
er of  the  metropolis.  But  for  him,  the  moderate  party 
would  have  held  the  ascendant  in  it.  I  do  therefore  hope  that, 
at  least,  no  Scottish  champion  of  the  gospel  will  imitate  some 
in  England,  by  trying  to  prove  that  Whitefield  had  little  or  no 
influence  upon  the  revival  of  evangelical  preaching  in  the 
establishment.  If  any  do  try  there,  I  can  only  say,  as  I  do 
here, — their  fathers  knew  better,  and  posterity  will  laugh  at 
them.      Venn's  Life  of  Venn. 

As  a  counterpart  to  the  sermon  against  WThitefield  in  the 
meeting-house,  by  one  of  the  Associate  Presbytery,  the  fol- 
lowing scene  in  the  kirk  at  Aberdeen  may  instruct  as  well  as 
amuse.  Dr.  Southey  has  told  the  story  well;  but  Whitefield 
tells  it  better,  "  Aberdeen,  Oct.  9,  1741.  At  my  first  com- 
ing here,  things  looked  a  little  gloomy ;  for  the  magistrates 
had  been  so  prejudiced  against  me  by  one  Mr.  Bisset,  that 
when  applied  to,  they  refused  me  the  use  of  the  kirk-yard  to 
preach  in.  This  Mr.  Bisset  is  colleague  with  one  Mr.  O.  at 
whose  repeated  invitation  I  came  hither.  Though  colleagues 
of  the  same  congregation,  they  are  very  different  in  their  natu- 
ral tempers.  The  one  is,  what  they  call  in  Scotland,  of  a 
sweet-blooded,  the  other  of  a  choleric,  disposition.  Mr.  B.  is 
neither  a  seceder,  nor  quite  a  kirk-man  ;  having  great  fault 
to  find  with  both. 

"  Soon  after  my  arrival,  dear  Mr.  O.  took  me  to  pay  my 
respects  to  him.  He  was  prepared  for  it ;  and  immediately 
pulled  out  a  paper,  containing  a  number  of  insignificant 
questions,  which  I  had  neither  time  nor  inclination  to  an- 
swer. The  next  morning,  it  being  Mr.  O.'s  turn,  I  lectured 
and  preached.  The  magistrates  were  present.  The  con- 
gregation was  very  large,  and  light  and  life  fled  all  around. 

"  In  the  afternoon,  Mr.  B.   officiated.     I  attended.     He 


240        whitefikld's   life   and  times. 

begun  his  prayers  as  usual  ;  but  in  the  midst  of  them,  nam- 
ing ine  by  name,  he  entreated  the  Lord  to  forgive  the  dis- 
honour that  had  been  put  upon  him,  by  my  being  suffered  to 
preach  in  that  pulpit  And  that  all  might  know  what  reason 
he  had  to  put  up  such  a  petition, — about  the  middle  of  his 
sermon,  he  not  only  urged  that  I  was  a  curate  of  the  church 
of  England,  (had  VVhitetield  been  an  archbishop  or  bishop, 
Bisset  would  have  begun  his  prayers  against  him,)  but  also 
quoted  a  passage  or  two  out  of  my  first  printed  sermons, 
which  he  said  were  grossly  Arminian. 

"  Most  of  the  congregation  seemed  surprised  and  chagrin- 
ed, especially  his  good-natured  colleague,  Mr.  O. ;  who,  im- 
mediatelyafter  sermon,  and  without  consulting  me  in  the  least, 
stood  up,  and  gave  notice  that  Mr.  Whitefield  would  preach 
in  about  half  an  hour.  The  interval  being  so  short,  the  ma- 
gistrates returned  into  the  sessions-house,  and  the  congrega- 
tion patiently  waited — big  with  expectation  of  hearing  my  re- 
sentment. 

"  At  the  time  appointed  I  went  up,  and  took  no  other  no- 
tice of  the  good  man's  ill-timed  zeal,  than  to  observe  in  some 
part  of  my  discourse,  that  if  the  good  old  gentleman  had  seen 
some  of  my  later  writings,  wherein  I  had  corrected  several  of 
my  former  mistakes,  he  would  not  have  expressed  himself  in 
such  strong  terms. 

"  The  people  being  thus  diverted  from  controversy  with 
man,  were  deeply  impressed  with  what  they  heard  from  the 
word  of  God.  All  was  hushed,  and  more  than  solemn!  On 
the  morrow,  the  magistrates  sent  for  me,  expressed  them- 
selves quite  concerned  at  the  treatment  I  had  met  with,  and 
begged  me  to  accept  the  freedom  of  the  city.  But  of  this 
enough."  Dr.  Southey  justly  says,  "  this  triumph  White- 
field  obtained,  as  much  by  that  perfect  self-command  which 
he  always  possessed  in  public,  as  by  his  surpassing  oratory." 

Bisset's  hostility  did  not  end  here,  nor  confine  itself  to 
Whitefield.  Next  year  he  assailed  the  Scotch  clergymen, 
who  had  employed  the  English  curate ;  and  charged  them 
with  caressing  Whitefield,  "  as  it  would  seem,  to  break  the 
seceders."  Bisset's  Letter  on  Communion  with  a  Priest  of 
the  Church  of  England.  Thus  it  was  not  the  Associate 
Synod  alone  who  attributed  the  friendship  of  the  kirk  for 
Whitefield  to  selfish  motives. 

One  thing  occurred  in  Edinburgh  which  pleased  Whitefield 
very  much.     After  preaching  in  the   orphan-house  park,  a 


WHITEFI  ELD'S      LIFE     AND     TIMES.  211 

large  company  came  to  salute  him.  Amongst  the  rest,  a  fine 
portly  quaker  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  said,  "  Friend 
George,  I  am  as  thou  art.  I  am  for  bringing  all  to  the  life 
and  power  of  the  ever-living  God  ;  and,  therefore,  if 
thou  wilt  not  quarrel  with  me  about  my  hat,  I  will  not  quar- 
rel with  thee  about  thy  gown."  I  know  some  ex-quakers 
who  would  say,  that  Whitefield  would  not  have  been  so 
much  pleased,  if  he  had  known  the  mystery  of  the  hat  in 
quakerism. 


21 


242        whitefield's    life    and    times 


CHAPTER  X. 

WHITEFIELD     AND     THE     DISSENTERS. 

Neither  the  revivals  in  Scotland,  nor  the  riots  in  Eng- 
land, won  for  Whitefield  the  sympathy  of  the  London  minis- 
ters. Bradbury  lampooned  him  ;  Barker  sneered  at  him  ; 
Dr.  Watts  was  silent ;  and  Coward's  trustees  were  insolent 
to  Dr.  Doddridge,  because  he  gave  him  some  countenance  at 
Northampton.  There  was  a  deeper  cause  for  all  this  than 
their  dread  of  his  enthusiasm.  They  were  then  in  treaty  with 
some  of  the  bishops,  in  order  to  revive  that  scheme  of  Com- 
prehension, which  Bates,  Manton,  and  Baxter  tried  to  nego- 
ciate  with  Stillingfleet ;  but  which  Clarendon,  even  whilst  in 
banishment,  had  influence  enough  at  home  to  defeat,  although 
the  bill  in  favour  of  it  was  drawn  up  by  Lord  Chief  Baron 
Hale.      Tillot  sorts  Life. 

The  Clarendon  party  were  not  dead  nor  idle,  when  the 
subject  of  the  comprehension  was  revived  by  Chandler  and 
Doddridge  with  Archbishop  Herring.  Warburton,  who  knew 
them  well,  foretold  the  issue  thus,  even  when  the  prospect 
was  brightest  before  curtain  ;  "  1  can  tell  you  of  certain 
science,  that  not  the  least  alteration  will  be  made  in  the  eccle- 
siastical system."  Letter  to  Doddridge.  The  progress  of 
this  affair  will  explain  both  the  shyness  and  the  sharpness  of 
the  London  ministers  towards  Whitefield.  They  could  not 
have  negociated  with  him  and  the  archbishop  at  the  same 
time.  Indeed,  they  had  no  wish  to  be  identified  with  any 
of  his  measures. 

It  belongs  to  history  to  tell  this  matter  gravely :  I  prefer 
the  graphic  sketch  of  its  origin  and  progress,  given  in  the  fol- 
lowing letters.  The  first  letter  is  from  Barker  to  Doddridge. 
"  As  for  the  comprehension,  so  much  talked  of  in  town  and 
country,  the  utmost  of  the  matter  is  this  : — Mr.  Chandler, 
while  his  meeting-place  was  shut  up,  made  a  visit  to  his  friends 
at  Norwich ;  and  there  happened  to  hear  the  bishop  give  a 
charge  to  his  clergy,  which  he  thought  not  very  candid.  One 
expression  appeared  to  him  invidious,   viz.  that  the  heads  of 


whitefield's  life   and  times.  243 

the  rebellion  were  presbyterians  ;  as  appeared  by  those  birds 
in  the  Tower  sending  for  presbyterian  confessors.  Upon  Mr. 
Chandler's  return  to  London,  he  wrote  a  letter  to  Dr.  Gooch, 
complaining  of  his  charge,  and  particularly  of  that  expression. 
This  letter  was  written  very  handsomely,  and  it  brought  a 
very  civil,  respectful  answer.  After  Gooch  came  to  town, 
Chandler,  at  his  desire,  made  him  a  visit,  in  which  they  had 
much  discourse ;  and  amongst  other  things,  there  was  talk  of 
a  comprehension.  This  visit  was  followed,  at  Gooch's  de- 
sire, with  another,  when  the  bishop  of  Salisbury  was  present, 
who  soon  discovered  his  shrewdness,  but  said,  '  Our  church, 
Mr.  Chandler,  consists  of  three  parts, — doctrine,  discipline, 
and  ceremonies :  as  to  the  last,  they  should  be  left  indiffer- 
ent, pjb  they  are  agreed  on  all  hands  to  be :  as  to  the  second, 
our  discipline,'  said  he,  '  is  so  bad,  that  no  one  knows  how 
or  where  to  mend  it:  and  as  to  the  first,  what  is  your  objec- 
tion?' He  answered,  '  Your  Articles,  my  lord,  must  be  ex- 
pressed in  Scripture  words,  and  the  Athanasian  creed  be  dis- 
carded.' Both  the  bishops  answered,  they  wished  they  were 
rid  of  that  creed,  and  had  no  objection  to  restoring  the  Arti- 
cles into  Scripture  words  ;  '  but  what  shall  we  do  about  re- 
ordination  ? '  To  this  Mr.  Chandler  made  such  a  reply  as 
he  judged  proper;  but,  I  think,  granted  more  than  he  ought: 
he  said  none  of  us  would  renounce  his  presbyterian  ordina- 
tion ;  but  if  their  lordships  meant  only  to  impose  their  hands 
on  us,  and  by  that  rite  recommend  us  to  public  service  in  their 
society  or  constitution,  that,  perhaps,  might  be  submitted  to  : 
but  when  he  told  me  this,  I  said,  '  perhaps  not — no,  by  no 
means;  that  being,  in  my  opinion,  a  virtual  renunciation  of 
our  ordination,  which  I  apprehend  not  only  as  good,  but  better 
than  theirs.'  The  two  bishops,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  visit, 
requested  Mr.  Chandler  to  wait  on  the  archbishop,  which  he 
did,  and  met  Gooch  there  by  accident.  The  archbishop  re- 
ceived him  well,  and  being  told  by  Gooch  what  Chandler  and 
he  had  been  talking  on,  viz.  a  comprehension,  said,  A  very 
good  thing  ;  he  wished  it  with  all  his  heart ;  and  the  rather, 
because  this  was  a  time  which  called  upon  all  good  men  to 
unite  against  infidelity  and  immorality,  which  threatened  uni- 
versal ruin  ;  and  added,  he  was  encouraged  to  hope,  from  the 
piety,  learning,  and  moderation  of  many  dissenters,  that  this 
was  a  proper  time  to  make  the  attempt.  But,  may  it  please 
your  grace,  said  Gooch,  Mr.  Chandler  says  the  Articles  must 
be  altered  into  the  words  of  Scripture.    And  why  not  ?  replied 


244  whitefield's  life  and   times. 

the  archbishop  ;  it  is  the  impertinences  of  men,  thrusting  their 
words  into  articles  instead  of  the  words  of  God,  that  have  oc- 
casioned most  of  the  divisions  in  the  Christian  church,  from 
the  beginning  of  it  to  this  day.  The  archbishop  added,  that 
the  bench  of  bishops  seemed  to  be  of  his  mind  ;  that  he 
should  be  glad  to  see  Mr.  Chandler  again,  but  was  then  oblig- 
ed to  go  to  court.  And  this  is  all.  I  have  smiled  at  some 
who  seem  mightily  frighted  at  this  affair,  are  very  angry  with 
Mr.  Chandler,  and  cry  out,  *  We  won't  be  comprehended — 
we  won't  be  comprehended.1  One  would  think,  they  imagined 
it  was  like  being  electrified,  or  inoculated  for  the  small  pox. 
But  most  of  your  fault-finders,  I  apprehend,  are  angry  with 
Mr.  Chandler  for  an  expression  he  used  in  the  second  visit. 
When  urging  the  expediency  of  expressing  the  Articles  in 
Scripture  words,  he  said,  it  was  for  others,  not  himself,  he 
suggested  this,  his  conscience  not  being  disturbed  by  them  as 
they  now  stood,  for  he  freely  owned  himself  a  moderate  Cal- 
vinist." 

Six  months  after  this,  Doddridge  himself  had  an  interview 
with  Herring,  and  found,  at  first,  that  although  the  archbishop 
had  "  most  candid  sentiments  of  his  dissenting  brethren,  he 
had  no  great  zeal  for  attempting  any  thing  in  order  to  intro- 
duce them  into  the  church ;  wisely  foreseeing  the  difficulties 
with  which  it  might  be  attended."  Doddridge' s  Letters.  He 
was  not  likely  to  have  zeal  for  it.  He  had  not  zeal  even  for 
the  orthodox  of  his  own  church.  Jortin  concludes  his  formal 
and  inflated  sketch  of  him  thus  :  "  he  was  willing  to  think  the 
best  of  other  people's  principles."  What  this  means,  may, 
perhaps  be  guessed  from  the  primate's  letters  to  Duncombe ; 
of  which  the  following  is  one  specimen  :  "  I  abhor  every  ten- 
dency to  the  Trinity  controversy.  The  manner  in  which 
it  is  always  conducted  is  the  disgrace  and  ruin  of  Christi- 
anity." 

When  Doddridge  saw  that  the  comprehension  scheme,  as 
proposed  by  Chandler,  did  not  suit  Herring,  he  suggested  "  a 
sort  of  medium  between  our  present  state,  and  that  of  a 
perfect  coalition."  "  I  mentioned,"  he  says,  "acknowledg- 
ing our  churches  as  unschisiaatical ;  by  permitting  their 
clergy  to  officiate  amongst  us,  if  desired,  and  dissenting  min- 
isters to  officiate  in  churches.  It  struck  him  as  a  new  and 
important  thought.  He  told  me,  more  than  once,  that  I  had 
suggested — what  he  should  lay  up  in  his  mind  for  further  con- 
sideration." 


whitefield's  life   and   times.  245 

Next  year,  however,  Doddridge  learned  from  Sir  Thomas 
Bireh,  that,  although  "  several  of  the  bishops  endeavoured  to 
have  White's  Third  Letter  (see  Towgood)  suppressed,  as  un- 
friendly to  comprehension,  Sherlock  insisted  upon  having  all 
objections  brought  out  at  once."  Good  Doddridge,  however, 
still  cherished  hopes  for  his  own  plan  ;  and,  accordingly,  cul- 
tivated Intimacy  with  the  heads  of  the  church  so  closely,  that 
the  very  men  who  censured  him  for  risking  the  comprehen- 
sion, at  first,  by  countenancing  Whitefield,  came  at  last  to 
insinuate  that  he  paid  more  court  "  to  eminent  members  of 
the  establishment,"  than  was  prudent.  However  this  may  be, 
he  rejoiced  with  Lady  Huntingdon,  at  the  same  time,  that 
"  the  mighty,  the  noble,  the  wise,  and  the  rich,"  assembled  at 
her  house,  "  to  hear  Whitefield  ." 

How  Doddridge  acted  and  was  censured,  in  reference  to 
Whitefield,  when  the  vision  of  a  comprehension  dawned  upon 
some  of  the  leading  dissenters  of  1 743,  will  be  best  told  by  the 
secretary  of  Coward's  trustees,  Nathaniel  Neal,  Esq.  of 
Million  Bank. 

"  It  was  with  the  utmost  concern  that  I  received  the  inform- 
ation of  Mr.  Whitefield's  having  preached  last  week  in  your 
pulpit,  and  that  I  attended  the  meeting  of  Coward's  trustees 
this  day,  when  that  matter  was  canvassed,  and  that  I  now  find 
myself  obliged  to  apprize  you  of  the  very  great  uneasiness 
which  your  conduct  herein  has  occasioned  them. 

"  The  many  characters  you  sustain  with  so  much  honour, 
and  in  which  I  reverence  you  so  highly,  make  me  ashamed, 
and  the  character  I  sustain,  of  your  friend,  makes  it  extremely 
irksome  for  me,  to  express  any  sentiments  as  mine,  which  may 
seem  to  arraign  your  conduct ;  but  when  I  reflect  in  how  dis- 
advantageous a  light  your  regard  to  the  Methodists  has,  for 
some  considerable  time,  placed  you  in  the  opinion  of  many, 
whom  I  have  reason  to  believe  you  esteem  amongst  your 
most  judicious  and  hearty  friends,  and  what  an  advantage  it 
has  given  against  you  to  your  secret  and  avowed  enemies,  of 
either  of  which  facts  I  believe  you  are  not  in  any  just  degree 
sensible,  I  could  run  any  hazard  of  your  censure  rather  than 
that  you  should  remain  unapprized  of  these  facts. 

"  You  cannot  be  ignorant,  how  obnoxious  the  imprudences 
committed,  or  alleged  to  be  committed,  by  some  of  the  Meth- 
odists, have  rendered  them  to  great  numbers  of  people  ;  and 
though,  indeed,  supposing  they  have  a  spirit  of  religion 
amongst  them  to  be   found  no  where  else,  so  that  a  man 

21* 


246        whitefield's  life    and  times. 

would,  for  his  own  sake,  and,  at  any  temporal  hazard,  take 
his  lot  amongsl  them  ;  yet  if,  besides  their  reputation  for  a 
forward  and  indiscreet  zeal,  and  an  unsettled,  injudicious 
way  of  thinking  and  behaving,  they  have  nothing  to  distin- 
guish them  from  other  serious  and  devout  Christians,  surely 
every  man  would  choose  to  have  as  little  concern  with  them 
as  possible. 

"  But  in  the  case  of  such  a  public  character,  and  so  ex- 
tensive a  province  for  the  service  of  religion  as  yours,  it 
seems  to  me  a  point  well  worth  considering,  whether,  suppos- 
ing even  the  ill  opinion  the  world  entertains  of  them  to  be 
groundless,  it  is  a  right  thing  to  risk  such  a  prospect  as  Provi- 
dence has  opened  before  you,  of  eminent  and  distinguished 
usefulness,  for  the  sake  of  any  good  you  are  likely  to  do 
amongst  these  people. 

"  For  my  own  part,  I  have  had  the  misfortune  of  observing, 
and  I  must  not  conceal  it  from  you,  that  wherever  I  have 
heard  it  mentioned,  that  Dr.  Doddridge  countenanced  the 
Methodists,  and  it  has  been  the  subject  of  conversation  much 
oftener  than  I  could  have  wished,  I  have  heard  it  constantly 
spoken  of  by  his  friends  with  concern,  as  threatening  a  great 
diminution  of  his  usefulness,  and,  by  his  adversaries,  with  a 
sneer  of  triumph. 

"  The  trustees  are  particularly  in  pain  for  it,  with  regard  to 
your  academy ;  as  they  know  it  is  an  objection  made  to  it  by 
some  persons,  in  all  appearance,  seriously ;  and  by  others, 
craftily  ;  and  yet,  they  are  almost  afraid  of  giving  their 
thoughts,  even  in  the  most  private  manner,  concerning  it,  lest 
it  should  be  made  an  occasion  of  drawing  them  into  a  public 
opposition  to  the  Methodists,  as  they  are  likely  to  be,  in  some 
measure,  by  your  letter  to  Mr.  Mason,  (excusing  your  prefix- 
ing a  recommendation  of  a  book  of  theirs,  without  the  advice 
of  the  trustees,)  which  letter  they  have  desired  me  to  inform 
you  has  given  them  great  offence. 

"  What  weight  these  considerations  will  or  ought  to  have 
with  you,  I  cannot  determine  ;  as  I  have  thrown  them  to- 
gether in  a  good  deal  of  haste,  I  am  afraid  lest  I  should  have 
said  any  thing  in  such  a  manner  as  may  justly  give  you 
offence  :  this,  however,  1  am  sure  of,  that  you  will  not  read 
any  such  line  with  more  pain  than  that  in  which  I  wrote  it-  If 
I  have  used  any  assuming  language,  my  heart  did  not  dictate 
it ;  if  1  have  betrayed  any  earnestness  or  warmth  unbecoming 
the  deference  due  to  your  superior  judgment,  impute  it  to 


whitefield's   life  and  times.  247 

the  passionate  regard  I  bear  to  so  great  and  so  valuable  a 
character  :  if,  on  the  other  hand,  I  have  said  any  thing  wor- 
thy your  consideration,  I  am  persuaded  it  will  have  its  weight, 
notwithstanding  any  disadvantage  from  the  mode  of  saying 
it,  and  the  person  who  says  it,  especially  when  I  assure  you, 
that  that  alone  which  you  may  rind  in  it  becoming  the  sin- 
cerity and  affection  of  a  friend,  and  the  respect  and  veneration 
due  to  a  man  of  eminent  learning  and  piety,  has  the  approba- 
tion of, 

"  Reverend  and  dear  sir, 
"  Your  most  affectionate  and  faithful,  humble  servant, 

"Nathaniel  Neal." 

The  answer  to  this  first  letter  from  the  Coward  trust,  Dod- 
dridge himself  did  not  trouble  himself  to  preserve.  A  second 
came  : — 

"  The  candid  reception  you  gave  my  last  of  the  1  Ith  instant, 
I  impute  principally  to  your  own  condescending  and  friendly 
disposition,  and  next,  to  the  credit  you  gave  to  that  simplicity 
of  intention  with  which  it  was  written,  and  wherein  alone  I  can 
in  any  way  be  sure  that  it  was  not  defective. 

"  I  am  not  insensible,  sir,  that  the  respect  many  of  your 
people  bore  to  Mr.  Whitefield,  and  your  own  acquaintance 
with  him,  must  have  made  it  a  matter  of  difficulty  for  you 
entirely  to  have  avoided  showing  him  some  polite  regards 
on  his  coming  to  Northampton  ;  and  I  greatly  rejoice  in  be- 
ing furnished  with  so  particular  an  account  of  the  circum- 
stances attending  his  visit,  that  may  enable  me  to  say,  you 
were  so  far,  at  that  time,  from  seeking  his  preaching  in  your 
pulpit,  that  you  took  several  steps,  and  indeed  all  that  you 
thought  you  could  prudently  venture  on,  and  such  as  might, 
if  they  had  succeeded,  have  been  sufficient,  to  have  pre- 
vented it ;  which  I  doubt  not  will,  and  I  am  sure  ought,  to 
have  some  weight  with  those  who  censure  this  step  on  the 
ground  of  imprudence.  I  could  only  wish  that  I  were  able  to 
make  these  circumstances  known  as  far  as  that  censure  is 
likely  to  extend. 

"  I  should  be  very  sorry,  sir,  if  you  had  any  just  reason  to 
apprehend,  that  what  has  been  written  to  you  on  this  subject 
by  any  of  your  friends  was  intended  to  have  any  weight  on 
the  footing  of  authority.  They  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  wish- 
ing for  any  greater  influence  over  you  than  what  their  argu- 
ments, backed  by  the  affection  which  all  who  deserve  the 


248  "WHITE  field's    life    and   times. 

name  of  your  friends  so  justly  entertain,  will  give  them.  And 
it  is  in  that  confidence  that  vou  will  not  think  me  vain,  or  so 
weak  as  to  wish  any  greater  for  myself,  that  I  venture  to  write 
another  word  to  you  on  this  subject. 

"  And  there  is  one  thing  which  your  letter  gives  me  an  oc- 
casion to  suggest  for  your  present  consideration,  with  regard 
to  your  apprehensions  of  the  growth  of  infidelity,  which  I  am 
abundantly  satisfied  are  too  well  founded;  and  that  is,  whether 
the  enthusiasm  and  extravagances  of  weak  Christians  have 
not  furnished  out  some  of  the  most  specious  pleas,  as  well  as 
splendid  triumphs  of  infidelity  1  The  pamphlet  of  "  Christi- 
anity not  founded  on  Argument  "  alone,  sufficiently  convinces 
me  that  they  have  ;  inasmuch  as  that  pamphlet  was  calcu- 
lated to  serve  the  interests  both  of  enthusiasm  and  deism  ; 
actually  made  both  enthusiasts  and  deists:  and  raised  a  doubt, 
not  yet,  as  I  apprehend,  fully  cleared,  whether  the  world  was 
obliged  to  the  one  or  other  of  these  parties  for  that  excellent 
performance.  If  enthusiasts,  therefore,  by  their  principles, 
are  laying  a  foundation  of  deism,  however  they  may  abhor  it 
in  their  intentions,  it  surely  behoves  us  to  see  to  it,  that  we 
give  them  no  assistance  in  that  work  ;  and  the  rather,  as 
deists  are  watching  for  every  possible  advantage  of  this  kind. 
A  remarkable  instance  of  which  was  accidentally  mentioned 
to  me  very  lately.  In  a  late  conversation  in  a  mixed  company 
of  deists,  the  countenance  which  a  certain  eminet  divine  had 
given  to  some  reputed  enthusiasts  was  mentioned  by  one  of 
the  deists  in  support  of  this  position — that  the  most  learned  and 
considerable  among  Christian  divines,  who  were  really  honest 
men,  were  enthusiasts.  You  may  certainly  depend  on  the 
truth  of  this  relation." 

The  answer  to  this  also  is  not  preserved.     A  third  came. 

"Million  Bank,  Dec.  10th,  1743. 

"  I  am  sorry  you  appear  so  apprehensive  in  your  last  letter, 
lest  I  should  interpret  what  you  said  in  your  first  two  unfa- 
vourably of  the  methodists  and  Mr.  Whitefield,  as  it  confirms 
me  in  my  fears  of  your  attachment  to  them  ;  but,  whatever 
my  wishes  were  in  that  respect,  you  may  be  assured  I  could 
never  venture  to  represent  you  as  indifferent  to  them,  when  I 
read  your  commendation  of  his  sermon  for  its  excellence  and 
oratory,  and  remember  the  low,  incoherent  stuff  I  used  to  hear 
him  utter  at  Kennington  Common. 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       249 

"Whilst  I  continued  oppressed  and  hurt  with  these  reflec- 
tions, your  excellent  sermon  for  the  County  Hospital  came  in 
to  my  relief.  The  piety,  the  justness  of  the  sentiments  and 
arguments,  the  manly,  graceful  diction,  and  the  benevolent 
spirit  that  runs  through  the  whole  of  it,  both  amazed  and 
charmed  me.  It  must  have  extorted  from  any  heart  less  ac- 
quainted with  your  disposition  for  public  usefulness  than  I  am, 
a  devout  ejaculation,  that  God  would  never  permit  such  ta- 
lents to  come  under  a  wrong  direction,  or  suffer  the  disadvan- 
tages they  must  necessarily  submit  to,  if  engaged  amongst 
men  of  weak  heads  and  narrow,  gloomy  sentiments,  who  may 
and  ought  to  be  pitied  and  prayed  for,  and  better  informed,  as 
opportunity  allows,  but  whom  no  rules  of  piety  or  prudence 
will  oblige  us  to  make  our  friends  and  confidants. 

"  There  are  letters  shown  about  town,  from  several  minis- 
ters in  the  west,  which  make  heavy  complaints  of  the  disor- 
ders occasioned  by  Whitefield  and  Wesley  in  those  parts. 
One  of  them,  speaking  of  Mr.  Whitefield,  calls  him  '  honest, 
crazy,  confident  Whitefield.'  These  letters  likewise  mention, 
that  some  ministers  there,  who  were  your  pupils,  have  given 
them  countenance  ;  and  you  can  hardly  conceive  the  disre- 
spect this  has  occasioned  several  ministers  and  other  per- 
sons in  town  to  speak  of  you  with.  Whether  you  are  aware 
of  this  I  know  not ;  and  I  am  sure,  if  I  did  not  esteem  it  a 
mark  of  sincere  friendship,  I  would  not  give  you  the  uneasi- 
ness of  hearing  it." 

The  answer  to  this  letter  Doddridge  preserved,  and  I  would 
perpetuate. 

TO    NATHANIEL    NEAL,  ESQ. 

"  I  am  truly  sorry  that  the  manner  in  which  I  spoke  of  Mr. 
Whitefield  in  my  last  should  give  you  uneasiness.  I  hope  I 
did  not  assert  his  sermon  to  have  been  free  from  its  defects ; 
but  I  must  be  extremely  prejudiced  indeed,  if  it  were  such 
'wild,  incoherent  stuff,'  as  you  heard  on  Kennington  Com- 
mon. Nor  does  it  seem  at  all  difficult  to  account  for  this  ; 
for  that  preached  here,  which,  I  believe,  was  one  of  his  more 
elaborate,  and,  perhaps,  favourite  discourses,  might  deserve  to 
be  spoken  of  in  a  different  manner.  What  I  then  said,  pro- 
ceeded from  a  principle  which  I  am  sure  you  will  not  despise  : 
I  mean  a  certain  frankness  of  heart,  which  would  not  allow 
me  to  seem  to  think  more  meanly  of  a  man  to  whom  I  once 


250         white  field's    life    and    times. 

professed  some  friendship,  than  I  really  did.  I  must,  indeed, 
look  upon  it  as  an  unhappy  circumstance,  that  he  came  to 
Northampton  just  when  he  did,  as  I  perceive,  that,  in  concur- 
rence with  other  circumstances,  it  has  filled  town  and  country 
with  astonishment  and  indignation.  Nor  did  I,  indeed,  ima- 
gine my  character  to  have  been  of  such  great  importance  in 
the  world,  as  that  this  little  incident  should  have  been  taken 
so  much  notice  of.  I  believe  the  true  reason  is,  that  for  no 
other  fault  than  my  not  being  able  to  go  so  far  as  some  of  my 
brethren  into  the  new  ways  of  thinking  and  speaking,  I  have 
long  had  a  multitude  of  enemies,  who  have  been  watching  for 
some  occasion  against  me  ;  and  I  thank  God,  that  they  have 
hitherto,  with  all  that  malignity  of  heart  which  some  of  them 
have  expressed,  been  able  to  find  no  greater ! 

"As  for  you,  dear  sir,  I  must  always  number  you  among 
my  most  affectionate  and  faithful  friends ;  and  though  the 
human  heart  is  not  so  formed  that  it  is  agreeable  to  hear  our- 
selves spoken  of  with  disrespect,  yet  I  am  well  assured  that 
the  writing  the  information  you  gave  me  was  among  the  in- 
stances of  your  greatest  kindness.  You  know,  sir,  that  a  fear 
to  offend  God,  by  doing  as  most  self-prudent  people  do,  has 
generally  been  esteemed  a  weakness  :  and  my  conscience 
testifies  that  those  actions  of  mine  which  have  been  most  re- 
proached, have  proceeded  from  that  principle.  It  is  impossi- 
ble to  represent  to  you  the  reason,  at  least  the  excuse,  I  have 
had,  and  esteemed  a  reason,  unless  I  could  give  you  an  ac- 
count of  the  several  circumstances  in  which  I  have  succes- 
sively been  placed  for  these  few  past  years.  If  I  could,  I  be- 
lieve you  would  be  less  inclined  to  blame  me  than  you  are  ; 
though  I  am  sensible  your  censures  are  very  moderate,  when 
compared  with  those  of  many  others. 

"I  had,  indeed,  great  expectations  from  the  Methodists  and 
Moravians.  I  am  grieved,  from  my  very  heart,  that  so  many 
things  have  occurred  among  them  which  have  been  quite  un- 
justifiable :  and  I  assure  you  faithfully,  they  are  such  as 
would  have  occasioned  me  to  have  dropped  that  intimacy  of 
correspondence  which  I  once  had  with  them.  And  I  suppose 
they  have  also  produced  the  same  sentiments  in  the  arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  who,  to  my  certain  knowledge,  receiv- 
ed Count  Zinzendorf  with  open  arms,  and  wrote  of  his  being 
chosen  the  Moravian  bishop,  as  what  was  done  '  plaudente 
toto  ccelesti  chore'  I  shall  always  be  ready  to  weigh  what- 
ever can  be  said  against  Mr.  Whitefield,  as  well  as  against 


whitefield's   life  and   times*         251 

any  of  the  rest :  and,  though  I  must  have  actual  demonstra- 
tion before  I  can  admit  him  to  be  a  dishonest  man,  and  though 
I  shall  never  be  able  to  think  all  he  has  written,  and  all  I  have 
heard  from  him,  nonsense,  yet  I  am  not  so  zealously  attached 
to  him  as  to  be  disposed  to  celebrate  him  as  one  of  the  great- 
est men  of  the  age,  or  to  think  that  he  is  the  pillar  that  bears 
up  the  whole  interest  of  religion  among  us.  And  if  this  mo- 
deration of  sentiment  towards  him  will  not  appease  my  angry 
brethren,  as  I  am  sensible  it  will  not  abate  the  enmity  which 
some  have,  for  many  years,  entertained  towards  me,  I  must 
acquiesce,  and  be  patient  till  the  day  of  the  Lord,  when  the 
secrets  of  all  hearts  shall  be  made  manifest ;  in  which,  I  do 
from  my  heart  believe,  that  with  respect  to  the  part  I  have 
aoted  in  this  affair,  I  shall  not  be  ashamed. 

"  I  had  before  heard  from  some  of  my  worthy  friends  in  the 
west  of  the  offence  which  had  been  taken  at  two  of  my  pupils 
there,  for  the  respect  they  showed  to  Mr.  Whitefield  ;  and  yet 
they  are  both  persons  of  eminent  piety.  He  whose  name  is 
chiefly  in  question,  I  mean  Mr.  Darracott,  is  one  of  the  most 
devout  and  extraordinary  men  I  ever  sent  out ;  and  a  person 
who  has,  within  these  few  years,  been  highly  useful  to  num- 
bers of  his  hearers.  Some  of  these,  who  were  the  most  aban- 
doned characters  in  the  place,  are  now  become  serious  and 
useful  Christians ;  and  he  himself  has  honoured  his  profes- 
sion, when  to  all  around  him  he  seemed  on  the  borders  of 
eternity,  by  a  behaviour  which,  in  such  awful  circumstances, 
the  best  of  men  might  wish  to  be  their  own.  Mr.  Fawcett 
labours  likewise  at  Taunton;  and  his  zeal,  so  far  as  I  can 
judge,  is  inspired  both  with  love  and  prudence.  Yet  I  hear 
these  men  are  reproached  because  they  have  treated  Mr. 
Whitefield  respectfully  ;  and  that  one  of  them,  after  having 
had  a  correspondence  with  him  for  many  years,  admitted  him 
into  his  pulpit.  I  own  I  am  very  thoughtful  when  these  things 
will  end  :  in  the  mean  time,  I  am  as  silent  as  I  can  be  !  I 
commit  the  matter  to  God  in  prayer,  and  earnestly  beg  his 
direction,  that  he  would  lead  me  in  a  plain  path.  Sometimes 
I  think  the  storm  will  soon  blow  over,  and  that  things  will  re- 
turn again  to  their  natural  course.  I  am  sure  I  see  no  danger 
that  any  of  my  pupils  will  prove  methodists  :  I  wish  many  of 
them  may  not  run  into  the  contrary  extreme.  It  is  really,  sir, 
with  some  confusion  that  I  read  your  encomium  upon  my  ser- 
mon :  I  am  sensible  it  is  some  consolation  to  me,  amidst  the 
uneasiness  which,  as  you  conclude,  other  things  must  give 


252        whitefield's   life   and  times. 

me.  I  hope  our  design  will  go  on,  though  it  has  not  at  pre- 
sent the  success  I  could  have  wished.  The  dissenters  do 
their  part,  but  I  am  sorry  to  say  the  neighbouring  clergy  are 
exceedingly  deficient  in  theirs."     Doddridge. 

Neal  was  not  the  only  person  of  influence  amongst  the  dis- 
senters who  was  alarmed  at  Doddridge's  liberality.  Dr.  Jen- 
nings assailed  him  lor  prefacing  a  book  of  Mason's ;  by 
which  "  his  friends  were  given  by  name,"  he  says,  "to  be  bait- 
ed by  the  methodists, — as  their  opposers."  At  the  same 
time,  also,  Mr.  Blair  wrote  to  him,  begging  his  opinion  of 
YYhitefield — "  a  man,"  he  says,  "  more  railed  at  by  some,  and 
idolized  by  others,  than  any  person  I  ever  knew  in  my  life." 
His  friend  Barker  also  told  him,  that  he  had  thought  it  "need- 
ful to  warn  his  hearers  to  avoid  the  errors  "  of  YY  hitefield  and 
his  followers.  So  little  did  good  men  appreciate  or  under- 
stand YY'hitefield  at  this  time  ! 


whitefield's   life   and  times.         253 


CHAPTER    XL 

whitefield's    domestic    life. 

It  is,  indeed,  almost  a  misnomer,  to  call  Whitefield's  con- 
jugal life  domestic.  His  engagements,  like  Wesley's,  were 
incompatible  with  domestic  happiness, — as  that  is  understood 
by  domestic  men.  Accordingly,  their  kind  and  degree  of 
home  enjoyment  he  neither  expected  nor  proposed  to  himself. 
All  that  he  wanted  was,  a  help  meet,  who  could  sympathize 
in  his  absorbing  public  enterprises,  as  well  as  in  his  personal 
joys  and  sorrows  ;  and  a  home,  where  he  might  recruit  after 
labour  and  exhaustion.  And  such  a  wife  and  a  home  he  de- 
served, as  well  as  needed.  He  mistook  sadly,  however,  when 
he  sought  for  such  a  wife  in  the  ranks  of  widowhood,  then. 
There  were  no  missionaries1  widows  "  in  these  days."  A 
young  female,  of  eminent  piety  and  zeal,  might  have  fallen  in 
with  his  habits  and  plans,  and  even  found  her  chief  happiness 
in  sustaining  his  mighty  and  manifold  undertakings,  like 
Paul's  Phoebe  :  but  a  widow,  who  had  been  "  a  housekeeper" 
(her  own)  "  many  years,"  and  that  in  the  retirement  of  Aber- 
gavenny, in  Wales,  could  hardly  be  expected  to  unlearn  the 
domestic  system  of  the  country,  nor  to  become  a  heroine  for 
the  world.  Both  Whitefield  and  Wesley  forgot  this  obvious 
truth,  and  married  widows. 

How  much  Wesley  smarted  for  this  oversight,  is  as  prover- 
bial as  it  is  painful.  Mrs.  Whitefield  had  none  of  Mrs.  Wes- 
ley's faults.  She  had,  however,  no  commanding  virtues,  run- 
ning in  grand  parallel  with  any  of  the  noble  features  of  her 
husband's  character  ;  and  thus,  because  she  was  not  promi- 
nently a  help  to  him,  she  seems  to  have  been  reckoned  ahin- 
derance,  by  the  gossips  and  busybodies  who  watched  Mrs. 
Wesley.  These,  in  their  fears  for  their  own  "  dear  minister's 
comfort,"  watched  Mrs.  Whitefield  also,  lest  he  should  be 
made  as  unhappy  as  his  old  friend  ! 

The  tattle  of  such  spies  is  beneath  contempt.  It  has,  how- 
ever, found  some  countenance  from  a  quarter  which  no  impar- 

22 


254       whitefield's    life    and   times. 

tial  judge  can  overlook  or  underrate.  Cornelius  Winter,  in 
the  letters  which  form  the  substance  of  his  "  Life,"  by  Jay 
of  Bath,  has  said  expressly,  that  Whitefield  "  was  not  happy 
in  his  wife  ; "  that  "  she  certainly  did  not  behave  as  she 
ought ; "  and  that  "  her  death  set  his  mind  much  at  rest." 
Now,  whatever  this  sweeping  charge  means,  it  came  from  a 
man  of  the  highest  character.  Of  Cornelius  Winter,  Matthew 
Wilks  used  to  say,  "  I  am  never  in  this  man's  company  with- 
out being  reminded  of  Paradisaical  innocence."  Rowland 
Hill,  also,  although  he  did  not  give  Winter  credit  for  all  the 
candour  Jay  has  done,  did  not  hesitate  to  say  of  him,  that 
"  he  would  make  the  worst  devil  of  any  man  in  the  world  ;" 
meaning,  that  he  was  the  most  unlike  the  devil.  All  this  is 
so  true,  that  Winter's  account  of  Mrs.  Whitefield  has  acquir- 
ed currency,  although  it  is  neither  confirmed  nor  illustrated 
by  a  single  document  or  line  from  any  other  writer,  so  far  as 
I  can  learn.  It  will,  no  doubt,  surprise  some,  however,  who 
have  formed  their  opinion  of  her  from  this  single  source,  to 
be  informed  that  Winter's  opportunity  of  knowing  her,  from 
personal  observation,  was  very  short.  Whitefield  was  mar- 
ried to  her  before  Winter  was  born.  She  died  in  1768.  Now 
Winter  says,  that  Berridge  introduced  him  to  Whitefield  by 
letter,  in  February,  1707.  Jaifs  Life  of  Winter.  And  even 
then,  he  did  not  become  "  one  of  the  family  "  until  his  "  fidel- 
ity was  proved."  Thus  he  had  not  two  years  to  judge  ;  and 
even  this  brief  space  occurred  when  Mrs.  Whitefield  was 
breaking  down.  Unless,  therefore,  he  received  his  informa- 
tion from  Whitefield  himself,  (and  he  does  not  say  so,)  Win- 
ter must  be  deemed,  for  once,  rash,  at  least. 

This  is  a  painful  conclusion  ;  but  it  is  inevitable,  except  on 
the  supposition  that  the  sweeping  charge  was  made  against 
her  by  her  husband.  But  his  first  report  of  her  is,  that  "  Mrs. 
James,"  although  "  once  gay,  is  now  a  despised  follower  of 
the  Lamb."  Gillies.  In  like  manner,  throughout  a  long 
series  of  his  letters,  he  uniformly  styles  her  his  "  dear  part- 
ner," or  "  dear  fellow-pilgrim,"  or  "  dear  yoke-fellow,"  or 
"  dear  wife."  He  also  tells  with  evident  delight,  how  she 
assisted  the  sailors  to  make  cartridges,  when  their  vessel  was 
preparing  for  battle,  on  the  voyage  to  America.  He  also 
praises  her  as  his  "  tender  nurse,"  whilst  he  was  ill  at  Toronto. 
He  often  joins  her  name  with  his  own,  in  sending  salutations 
to  Lady  Huntingdon,  Mr.  Hervey,  and  other  dear  friends. 
In  July,  1768,  he  writes  thus  from  Edinburgh,  "  tender  love 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         255 

to  all,  particularly  to  my  dear  wife."  In  the  same  month 
(she  died  in  August)  he  writes  to  another  friend,  "  My  wife  is 
as  well  as  can  be  expected.  Both  of  us  descending,  in  order 
to  ascend, 

'  Where  sin,  and  pain,  and  sorrow  cease, 
And  all  is  calm,  and  joy,  and  peace.'" 

Is  it  likely  that  the  man  who  wrote  thus  of  his  wife,  from  first 
to  last,  would  have  said  of  her  afterwards  to  Winter,  a  com- 
parative stranger,  what  would  have  warranted  Winter  to  throw 
so  dark  a  cloud  over  her  memory  1 

I  have  given  Winter  credit  for  a  longer  opportunity  of  ob- 
serving her,  than  he  himself  pretends  to  have  had.  "  Thrice," 
he  says,  "  it  pleased  the  Lord  to  lay  him  upon  a  bed  cf  sick- 
ness," after  he  became  one  of  the  family.  Then,  "  eight 
months  "  of  his  short  opportunity  were  spent  in  Bristol,  for 
the  recovery  of  his  health.  This  is  not  all  the  subtraction  to 
be  made  from  the  time.  "  A  second  visit  to  Bristol  held  four 
months."  Besides,  when  he  returned  to  London,  he  had  to 
"  bury  the  dead  at  Tottenham  Court  chapel."  Jay's  Life. 
Now  certainly,  whatever  may  be  thought  of  Winter's  high 
character,  it  is  impossible  to  attach  much  importance  to  his 
facilities  for  observation:  they  were  both  few  and  small ;  and 
he  ought  to  have  said  so,  instead  of  leaving  the  fact  to  be 
thus  found  out  by  comparing  scattered  dates,  and  calculating 
long  intervals  of  absence. 

A  great  deal,  indeed,  may  be  learned  in  a  short  time,  in  any 
family,  where  all  is  not  right  between  husband  and  wife  ;  and 
if  Winter,  whilst  a  bachelor,  had  all  those  delicate  and  noble 
perceptions  of  conjugal  love,  which  he  exemplified  when  he 
became  a  husband,  long  observation  was  not  necessary  in 
order  to  enable  his  fine  eye  to  see  exactly  how  matters  stood 
between  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Whitefield. 

I  have  felt  it  to  be  my  duty  to  scrutinize  this  only  recorded 
stigma  upon  Mrs.  Whitefield  ; — not  because  I  question  the 
general  truth  of  it,  so  far  as  Winter  was  a  witness, — but  be- 
cause it  passes  for  more  than  I  think  he  ever  intended.  The 
Whitefields,  so  far  as  I  can  judge,  neither  lived  nor  loved 
like  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Winter.  They  were  not  unhappy  in  the 
sense  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wesley  were  so  ;  but  still  their  com- 
muniono  f  spirit,  or  oneness  of  soul,  was  not  what  Cornelius 
Winter  nor  I  could  conscientiously  call  domestic  happiness. 

I  say  this,  because  I  cannot  forget  the  strangeness,  to  say 


256        whitefield's   life   and  times. 

the  least,  of  Whitefield's  text,  when  he  preached  his  wife's 
funeral  sermon.  It  was, — "  For  the  creature  was  made  sub- 
ject to  vanity;  not  willingly,  but  by  reason  of  Him  who  hath 
subjected  the  same  in  hope,"  Rom.  viii.  20.  Gillies.  !Now, 
even  if  he  dwelt  upon  the  context,  there  was  still  an  implica- 
tion, any  thing  but  complimentary  to  her  memory.  In  like 
manner,  his  letter  to  Torial  Joss  on  her  death,  is  more  pious 
than  tender : — "  The  late  very  unexpected  breach  is  a  fresh 
proof  that  the  night  soon  cometh  when  no  man  can  work. 
Pray,  where  may  I  foul  that  great  promise  made  to  Abraham, 
after  Sarah's  death?  May  it  be  fulfilled  in  you,  whilst  your 
Sarah  is  yet  alive  !  Sweet  bereavements,  when  God  himself 
fills  up  the  void.  I  find  it  so."  Letters.  There  was  no 
promise,  great  or  small,  given  on  that  occasion. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  find  a  letter  a  year  after  her  death,  in 
which  he  says  to  a  friend,  "  I  feel  the  loss  of  my  4  right  hand ' 
daily ;  but  right  hands  and  right  eyes  must  be  parted  with  for 
Him  who  doeth  all  things  well."  Letter  1406.  This  acknow- 
ledgment Winter  had  access  to  when  he  said  that  her  death 
set  Whitefield's  "  mind  much  at  rest."  He  might  also  have 
read,  as  well  as  myself,  the  following  references  to  the  early 
and  middle  parts  of  their  domestic  history.  Whitefield  wrote 
thus  from  on  board  the  Wilmington,  in  1744:  "  All  except 
myself  seem  ready  for  fire  and  smoke.  My  wife,  after  hav- 
ing dressed  herself  to  prepare  for  all  events,  set  about  mak- 
ing cartridges, — whilst  the  husband  wanted  to  go  into  the 
holes  of  the  ship,  hearing  that  was  the  chaplain's  usual  place." 
After  recovering  from  an  attack  of  cholic,  which  seemed  likely 
to  terminate  in  mortal  convulsions,  at  York,  in  the  same  year, 
he  sang  with  gratitude, 

"  My  wife  and  friends  stood  weeping  by, 
In  tears  resolved  to  see  me  die." 

In  a  subsequent  letter,  he  bears  testimony  to  her  usefulness 
and  zeal :  "  My  dear  wife  is  fully  employed  in  copying  my 
letters.  We  do  not,  however,  forget  our  dear  London  and 
English  friends.  We  pray  for  them  often,  and  cannot  help 
wishing  some  may  come  over  into  this  delightful  wilderness 
(Piscataqua;)  it  is  a  fruitful  field."  In  1747,  he  wrote  from 
Charleston  to  Wales,  "  My  dear  yoke-fellow  is  in  Georgia. 
Blessed  be  God,  she  is  well,  and  prospers  in  soul  and  body. 
We  hope  to  live  and  have  our  hearts  warmed  with  our  Welsh 
friends  ere  we  go  hence  and  be  no  more."     In  the  same  year 


WHITEFI  ELD's      LIFE     AND      TIMES.  257 

he  wrote  thus  of  her  to  a  friend,  "  We  lead  a  moving  life,  hut 
I  trust  we  move  heavenward."  "  We  are  more  than  happy." 
"  We  go  on  like  two  happy  pilgrims,  leaning  on  our  Beloved." 
In  1748,  when  he  sailed  from  Bermudas  to  England,  he 
wrote,  "  I  intend  to  return  to  beloved  America  next  year, 
which  is  one  reason  why  I  leave  my  dear  yoke-fellow  behind. 
Oh  that  I  knew  how  it  was  with  her!  But  I  see  God  will 
make  those  he  loves  to  live  by  faith  and  not  by  sense."  In 
1749  he  says,  "  We  are  both  well,  and  surrounded  with  mer- 
cies on  every  side  : — only  ungrateful,  ill,  and  hell-deserving 
I,  want  a  grateful  and  humble  heart ! " 

At  a  later  period,  1754,  I  find  him  writing  from  Lisbon 
thus:  "  You  will  not  forget  to  visit  my  widow-wife  !  Blessed 
be  God,  her  Maker  is  her  husband  ;  and  ere  long  we  shall  sit 
down  together,  at  the  marriage-supper  of  the  Lamb."  In 
1756,  he  says,  "  I  have  no  thoughts  at  present  of  her  ever 
seeing  the  orphan-house  again.  We  shall  ere  long  see  hea- 
ven. Some  antepasts  of  it  we  are  favoured  with  already." 
Letters. 

But  enough,  more  than  enough,  is  now  presented,  to  prove 
that  Winter's  unqualified  statements  were  unwarranted.  I 
must,  however,  add,  that  they  are  to  me  unaccountable,  unless 
he  meant  only  the  period  whilst  he  was  a  witness  of  the 
Whitefield  family,  and  unless  he  made  his  oicn  experience  the 
standard  by  which  he  tried  their  conjugal  love  ;  and  this  he 
has  not  said.  I  must,  therefore,  leave  the  case  of  Whitefield 
versus  Winter  to  the  verdict  of  time. 

Whitefield's  marriage  did  not  interrupt  his  work,  nor  damp 
his  ardour.  In  a  few  days  after,  his  success  in  Wales  made 
him  exclaim,  "  God  has  been  pleased  to  work  by  my  hands 
since  I  have  been  here.  0  stupendous  love.  O  infinitely 
condescending  God  !  "  He  was  married  on  the  11th  of  No- 
vember, 1741,  and  before  the  end  of  the  month  he  was  electri- 
fying Bristol,  as  in  the  days  of  old.  "  We  have  a  growing 
church"  here  again.  It  had  been  checked  for  a  time  by  the 
breach  between  Wesley  and  Cennick.  "  Yesterday,  and  sev- 
eral other  times,  the  Lord  hath  filled  many  as  with  new  wine. 
Sometimes  I  have  scarce  known  whether  I  have  been  in  the 
body  or  out  of  the  body.  It  is  a  good  thing  to  know  how  to 
manage  a  manifestation  aright ;  nature  so  frequently  and  art- 
fully blends  with  grace  !  The  more  grace  I  receive,  the  more 
I  desire  to  lie  as  a  poor,  very  poor  sinner,  at  the  feet  of  the 
wounded  Lamb." 

22* 


25S         whitefield's   life   and  times. 

In  this  spirit  he  came  to  Gloucester,  "  where,  by  a  particu- 
lar providence,"  one  of  the  churches  was  again  opened  to 
him  ;  St.  John's.  The  old  incumbent,  who  had  been  his 
"  grand  opposer,"  formerly,  was  dead  ;  and  the  new  minis- 
ter had  not  taken  possession  of  the  pulpit  ;  and,  therefore, 
the  churchwardens  paid  their  townsman  the  compliment  of  a 
church  to  preach  in,  because  he  was  newly  married.  He 
preached  twice  on  the  Sabbath,  "  with  unspeakable  pow- 
er;" and  then  upon  "a.  kill,  six  miles  off,"  and,  at  night, 
at  Stroud.  "  There  was,"  he  says,  "  a  new  awakening,  and 
revival  of  the  work  of  God."  "  We  shall  never  know,"  he 
exclaims,  "  what  good  field-preaching  has  done,  till  we  come 
to  judgment." 

At  Stroud  and  Painswick  he  flew  as  on  eagles'  wings,  he 
says,  "  with  wondrous  power,  and  every  sermon  was  bless- 
ed." Whilst  thus  darting  off  every  now  and  then  from  his 
home,  he  sent  word  to  Gilbert  Tennent,  that  Mrs.  White- 
field,  although  neither  "  rich  in  fortune,  nor  beautiful  in 
person  was  a  true  child  of  God,"  who  would  not  "  for  the 
world,  hinder  him  in  God's  work."  "  The  Lord  hath  given 
me  a  daughter  of  Abraham,"  he  says,  to  another  American 
friend. 

In  February,  1742,  Whitefield  returned  to  London,  where 
M  life  and  power  soon  flew  all  around  "  him  again  ;  "the  Re- 
deemer getting  himself  victory  daily  in  many  hearts."  The 
renewed  progress  of  the  gospel  at  this  time,  in  London,  he 
calls  emphatically,  "  the  Redeemer's  stately  steps."  Well 
he  might;  for,  during  the  Easter  Holidays,  "  Satan's  booths" 
in  Moorfields  poured  out  their  thousands  to  hear  him.  This 
determined  him  to  dare  all  hazards  on  Whit-Monday,  the 
great  gala-day  of  vanity  and  vice,  there.  Gillies'  account  of 
this  enterprise,  although  not  incorrect  nor  uninteresting,  is 
very  incomplete,  considering  the  fame  of  the  feat  at  the  time. 
The  following  account  is  from  the  pen  of  AMiitefield  himself; 
and  written  whilst  he  was  reporting,  at  home  and  abroad,  his 
marriage. 

"  For  many  years,  from  one  end  of  Moorfields  to  the  other, 
booths  of  all  kinds  have  been  erected  for  mountebanks,  play- 
ers, puppet-shows,  and  such  like.  With  a  heart  bleeding  with 
compassion  for  so  many  thousands  led  captive  by  the  devil  at  his 
will,  on  Whit- Monday,  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning,  attended 
by  a  large  congregation  of  praying  people,  I  ventured  to  lift 
up  a  standard  amongst  them  in  the  name  of  Jesus  of  Naza- 


whitefield's    life   and    times.       259 

reth.  Perhaps  there  were  ahout  ten  thousand  in  waiting,  not 
for  me,  but  for  Satan's  instruments  to  amuse  them. — Glad 
was  I  to  find,  that  I  had  for  once  as  it  were  got  the  start  of  the 
devil.  I  mounted  my  field  pulpit ;  almost  all  flocked  immedi- 
ately around  it.  1  preached  on  these  words,  '  As  Moses  lifted 
up  the  serpent  in  the  wilderness,  so  shall  the  Son  of  man  be 
lifted  up,'  &c.  They  gazed,  they  listened,  they  wept ;  and  I 
believe  that  many  felt  themselves  stung  with  deep  conviction 
for  their  past  sins.  All  was  hushed  and  solemn.  Being  thus 
encouraged,  I  ventured  out  again  at  noon  ;  but  what  a  scene! 
The  fields,  the  whole  fields  seemed  in  a  bad  sense  of  the 
word,  all  white,  ready — not  for  the  Redeemer's,  but  Beelze- 
bub's harvest.  All  his  agents  were  in  full  motion,  drummers, 
trumpeters,  merry-andrews,  masters  of  puppet-shows,  exhibit- 
ersof  wild  beasts,  players,  &c.  all  busy  in  entertaining  their  re- 
spective auditories.  I  suppose  there  could  not  be  less  than 
twenty  or  thirty  thousand  people.  My  pulpit  was  fixed  on 
the  opposite  side,  and  immediately,  to  their  great  mortifica- 
tion, they  found  the  number  of  their  attendants  sadly  lessened. 
Judging  that,  like  Saint  Paul,  I  should  now  be  called,  as  it 
were,  to  fight  with  beasts  at  Ephesus,  I  preached  from  these 
words  :  'Great  is  Diana  of  the  Ephesians?  You  may  easily 
guess,  that  there  was  some  noise  among  the  craftsmen,  and 
that  I  was  honoured  with  having  a  few  stones,  dirt,  rotten 
eggs,  and  pieces  of  dead  cats,  thrown  at  me,  whilst  engaged 
in  calling  them  from  their  favourite,  but  lying  vanities.  My  soul 
was  indeed  among  lions  ;  but  far  the  greatest  part  of  my  congre- 
gation, which  was  very  large,  seemed  for  a  while,  to  be  turned 
into  lambs.  This  encouraged  me  to  give  notice  that  I  would 
preach  again  at  six  o'clock  in  the  evening.  I  came,  I  saw, 
but  what — thousands  and  thousands  more  than  before,  if  pos- 
sible, still  more  deeply  engaged  in  their  unhappy  diversions  ; 
but  some  thousands  amongst  them  waiting  as  earnestly  to 
hear  the  gospel. 

This,  Satan  could  not  brook.  One  of  his  choicest  servants 
was  exhibiting,  trumpeting  on  a  large  stage  ;  but  as  soon  as 
the  people  saw  me  in  my  black  robes  and  my  pulpit,  I  think 
all  to  a  man  left  him  and  ran  to  me.  For  a  while  I  was  ena- 
bled to  lift  up  my  voice  like  a  trumpet,  and  many  heard  the 
joyful  sound.  God's  people  kept  praying,  and  the  enemy's 
agents  made  a  kind  of  a  roaring,  at  some  distance  from  our 
camp.  At  length  they  approached  nearer,  and  the  merry- 
andrew  (attended  by  others,  who  complained  that  they  had 


260         whitefield's   life   and   times. 

taken  many  pounds  less  that  day  on  account  of  my  preaching) 
got  up  upon  a  man's  shoulders,  and,  advancing  near  the  pulpit, 
attempted  to  slash  me  with  a  long  heavy  whip  several  times, 
but  always  with  the  violence  of  his  motion  tumbled  down. 
Soon  afterwards  they  got  a  recruiting  serjeant  with  his  drum, 
&c.  to  pass  through  the  congregation.  I  gave  the  word  of 
command,  and  ordered  that  way  might  be  made  for  the  king's 
officer.  The  ranks  opened  while  all  marched  quietly  through, 
and  then  closed  again.  Finding  those  efforts  to  fail,  a  large 
body,  quite  on  the  opposite  side  assembled  together,  and  hav- 
ing got  a  large  pole  for  their  standard,  advanced  towards  us 
with  steady  and  formidable  steps,  till  they  came  very  near 
the  skirts  of  our  hearing,  praying,  and  almost  undaunted  con- 
gregation. I  saw,  gave  warning,  and  prayed  to  the  Captain  of 
our  salvation  for  present  support  and  deliverance.  He  heard 
and  answered  ;  for  just  as  they  approached  us  with  looks  full 
of  resentment,  I  know  not  by  what  accident,  they  quarrelled 
among  themselves,  threw  down  their  staff  and  went  their  way, 
leaving,  however,  many  of  their  company  behind,  who,  before 
we  had  done,  I  trust  were  brought  over  to  join  the  besieged 
party.  I  think  I  continued  in  praying,  preaching,  and  singing, 
(for  the  noise  was  too  great,  at  times,  to  preach)  about  three 
hours. 

"We  then  retired  to  the  Tabernacle,  with  my  pockets  full 
of  notes  from  persons  brought  under  concern,  and  read  them 
amidst  the  praises  and  spiritual  acclamations  of  thousands, 
who  joined  with  the  holy  angels  in  rejoicing  that  so  many  sin- 
ners were  snatched,  in  such  an  unexpected,  unlikely  place 
and  manner,  out  of  the  very  jaws  of  the  devil.  This  was  the 
beginning  of  the  Tabernacle  Society. — Three  hundred  and 
fifty  awakened  souls  were  received  in  one  day,  and  I  believe 
the  number  of  notes  exceeded  a  thousand ;  but  I  must  have 
done,  believing  you  want  to  retire  to  join  in  mutual  praise  and 
thanksgiving  to  God  and  the  Lamb. 

"  Fresh  matter  of  praise  ;  bless  ye  the  Lord,  for  he  hath 
triumphed  gloriously !  The  battle  that  was  begun  on  Monday, 
was  not  quite  over  till  Wednesday  evening,  though  the  scene 
of  action  was  a  little  shifted.  Being  strongly  invited,  and  a 
pulpit  being  prepared  for  me  by  an  honest  quaker,  a  coal  mer- 
chant, I  ventured,  on  Tuesday  evening  to  preach  at  Mary-le- 
jBow  Fields,  a  place  as  much  frequented  by  boxers,  gamesters, 
and  such  like,  as  Moorfields.  A  vast  concourse  was  assem- 
bled together,  and  as  soon  as  I  got  into  the  field  pulpit,  their 


whitefield's   life   and  times.         2G1 

countenances  bespoke  the  enmity  of  their  hearts  against  the 
preacher.  I  opened  with  these  words — 'I  am  not  ashamed 
of  the  gospel  of  Christ,  for  it  is  the  power  of  God  unto  sal- 
vation to  every  one  that  believeth.'  I  preached  in  great 
jeopardy  ;  for  the  pulpit  being  high,  and  the  supports  not  well 
fixed  in  the  ground,  it  tottered  every  time  I  moved,  and  num- 
bers of  enemies  strove  to  push  my  friends  against  the  sup- 
porters, in  order  to  throw  me  down.  But  the  Redeemer 
stayed  my  soul  on  himself,  therefore  I  was  not  much  moved, 
unless  with  compassion  for  those  to  whom  I  was  delivering 
my  Master's  message,  which  I  had  reason  to  think,  by  the 
strong  impressions  that  were  made,  was  welcome  to  many. 
But  Satan  did  not  like  thus  to  be  attacked  in  his  strong  holds, 
and  I  narrowly  escaped  with  my  life  :  for,  as  I  was  passing 
from  the  pulpit  to  the  coach,  I  felt  my  wig  and  hat  to  be  al- 
most off.  I  turned  about,  and  observed  a  sword  just  touching 
my  temples.  A  young  rake,  as  1  afterwards  found,  was 
determined  to  stab  me,  but  a  gentleman,  seeing  the  sword 
thrusting  near  me,  struck  it  up  with  his  cane,  and  so  the  des- 
tined victim  providentially  escaped.  Such  an  attempt  excited 
abhorrence  ; — the  enraged  multitude  soon  seized  him — and, 
had  it  not  been  for  one  of  my  friends,  who  received  him  into 
his  house,  he  must  have  undergone  a  severe  discipline.  The 
next  day,  I  renewed  my  attack  in  Moorfields  ;  but,  would  you 
think  it]  after  they  found  that  pelting,  noise,  and  threaten- 
ings,  would  not  do,  one  of  the  merry -andrews  got  up  into  a 
tree  very  near  the  pulpit,  and  shamefully  exposed  himself  be- 
fore all  the  people.  Such  a  beastly  action  quite  abashed  the 
serious  part  of  my  auditory ;  whilst  hundreds  of  another 
stamp,  instead  of  rising  to  pull  down  the  unhappy  wretch,  ex- 
pressed their  approbation  by  repeated  laughs.  I  must  own 
that,  at  first,  it  gave  me  a  shock.  I  thought  Satan  had  out- 
done himself.  But,  recovering  my  spirits,  I  appealed  to  all, 
since  they  had  now  such  a  spectacle  before  them,  whether  I 
had  wronged  human  nature  in  saying,  after  pious  Bishop  Hall, 
*  that  man,  when  left  to  himself,  was  half  a  beast  and  half  a 
devil ; '  or,  as  the  great  Mr.  Law  expressed  himself,  '  a  mot- 
ley mixture  of  beast  and  devil.' 

u  Silence  and  attention  being  thus  gained,  I  concluded  with 
a  warm  exhortation,  and  closed  our  fes-tival  enterprises  in 
reading  fresh  notes  that  were  put  up,  praising  and  blessing 
God,  amidst  thousands  at  the  Tabernacle,  for  what  he  had 
done  for  precious  souls,  and  account  of  the  deliverances  he 


362  W  II  I  T  E  F  I  E  L  d's      LIFE     AND     TIMES. 

had  wrought  out  for  me  and  his  people.  I  could  enlarge  ; 
hut  being  about  to  embark  in  the  Mary  and  Ann  for  Scotland, 
I  must  hasten  to  a  close :  but  I  cannot  help  adding,  that  seve- 
ral little  boys  and  girls  who  were  fond  of  sitting  round  me  on 
the  pulpit,  while  I  preached,  and  handing  to  me  people's 
notes,  though  they  were  often  pelted  with  eggs,  dirt,  &c, 
thrown  at  me,  never  once  gave  way  ;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
every  time  I  was  struck  turned  up  their  little  weeping  eyes, 
and  seemed  to  wish  they  could  receive  the  blows  for  me. 
God  make  them  in  their  growing  years  great  and  living  mar- 
tyrs for  him,  who  out  of  the  mouths  of  babes  and  sucklings 
perfects  praise  !  "     Letters. 

In  this  way  Whitefield  signalized  his  marriage  ;  verifying  to 
his  wife  the  assurance  he  had  given  her,  that  he  would  not 
preach  a  sermon  less,  nor  travel  a  mile  fewer,  than  formerly. 
And  she  had  no  occasion  to  regret,  that  he  did  not  take  her 
with  him  in  his  short  excursions  around  London  ;  for,  how- 
ever good  a  rider  he  was,  he  was  a  bad  driver.  The  first 
time  he  took  her  out  in  a  chaise,  he  drove  into  a  ditch.  "My 
wife,"  he  says  to  a  friend,  "  has  been  in  trying  circumstances, 
partly  through  the  unskilfulness  of  a  chaise-driver  ; — I  mean 
myself.  Being  advised  to  take  her  out  into  the  air,  I  drove 
her,  as  well  as  myself,  through  inadvertency,  into  a  ditch. 
Finding  that  we  were  falling — she  put  her  hand  across  the 
chaise,  and  thereby  preserved  us  both  from  being  thrown  out. 
The  ditch  might  be  about  fourteen  feet  deep  ;  but  blessed  be 
God,  though  all  that  saw  us  falling,  cried  out,  They  are  kill- 
ed, yet,  through  infinite  mercy,  we  received  no  great  hurt. 
The  place  was  very  narrow  near  the  bottom,  and  yet  the 
horse  went  down,  as  though  let  down  by  a  pulley.  A  stand- 
er-by  ran  down  and  catched  hold  of  its  head,  to  prevent  its 
going  forwards.  I  got  upon  its  back,  and  was  drawn  out  by 
a  long  whip,  whilst  my  wife,  hanging  between  the  chaise  and 
the  bank,  was  pulled  up  on  the  other  side  by  two  or  three  kind 
assistants.  Being  both  in  a  comfortable  frame,  I  must  own, 
to  my  shame,  that  I  felt  rather  regret  than  thankfulness  in 
escaping  what  I  thought  would  be  a  kind  of  a  translation  to 
our  wished-for  haven.  But,  O  amazing  love  !  we  were  so 
strengthened,  that  the  chaise  and  horse  being  taken  up,  and 
our  bruises  being  washed  with  vinegar  in  a  neighbouring 
house,  we  went  on  our  intended  way,  and  came  home  rejoic- 
ing in  God  our  Saviour.     Not  expecting  my  wife's  confine- 


WH1TEFIELDS      LIFE      AND     TIMES.  263 

merit  for  some  time,  I  intend  making  a  short  excursion,  and 
then  you  may  expect  further  news." 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  the  chaise  was  his  own.  He 
was  so  poor*  at  this  time,  that  he  had  to  burrow  furniture  for 
his  house.  This  may  surprise  some  ;  but  it  is  only  too  true. 
"  I  thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  your  great  generosity,"  he 
writes  to  a  friend*  "  in  lending  me  some  furniture  ; — having 
little  of  my  own.     I  know  who  will  repay  you."     Lett.  546. 

Even  this  is  not  all  the  fact  concerning  his  poverty.  Al- 
most immediately  after  the  baptism  of  his  son,  he  wrote  to  the 
same  friend*  "  My  dear  wife  and  little  one  will  come  to  Glou- 
cester, for  I  find  it  beyond  my  circumstances  to  maintain  them 
here.  But  why  talk  of  wife  and  little  one  1  Let  all  be  ab- 
sorbed in  the  thoughts  of  the  love,  sufferings,  free  and  full 
salvation  of  the  infinitely  great  and  glorious  Emmanuel.  In 
respect  to  other  things,  at  present,  this  is  the  habitual  lan- 
guage of  my  heart, 

'Thy  gifts,  if  called  for,  I  resign  ; 
Pleased  to  receive,  pleased  to  restored 
Gifts  are  thy  work.     It  shall  be  mine, 
The  Giver  only  to  adore.'" 

It  was  well  he  was  thus  minded  ;  for  he  had  soon  to  give  up 
his  Isaac.  The  journey  to  Gloucester  proved  fatal  to  the 
child  :  and  yet,  how  slightly  he  refers  to  the  poverty  which 
rendered  that  journey  necessary !  His  narrative  of  the  event 
is  very  touching,  in  all  respects. 

"  Who  knows  what  a  day  may  bring  forth  1  Last  night  I 
was  called  to  sacrifice  my  Isaac  ;  I  mean  to  bury  my  only 
child  and  son,  about  four  months  old.  Many  things  occurred 
to  make  me  believe  he  was  not  only  to  be  continued  to  me, 
but  to  be  a  preacher  of  the  everlasting  gospel.  Pleased  with 
the  thought,  and  ambitious  of  having  a  son  of  my  own  so  di- 
vinely employed,  Satan  was  permitted  to  give  me  some  wrong 
impressions,  whereby,  as  I  now  find,  I  misapplied  several 
texts  of  Scripture.  Upon  these  grounds  I  made  no  scruple 
of  declaring  '  that  I  should  have  a  son,  and  that  his  name  was 
to  be  John.'  I  mentioned  the  very  time  of  his  birth,  and 
fondly  hoped  that  he  was  to  be  great  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord. 
Every  thing  happened  according  to  the  predictions  ;  and  my 
wife  having  had  several  narrow  escapes  while  pregnant,  espe- 
cially by  her  falling  from  a  high  horse,  and  my  driving  her 
into  a  deep  ditch  in  a  one-horse  chaise  a  little  before  the  time 


26 1        whitefield's   life  and  times. 

of  her  confinement,  and  from  which  we  received  little  or  no 
hurt,  confirmed  me  in  my  expectation,  that  God  would  grant 
me  my  heart's  desire.     I  would  observe  to  you,  that  the  child 
was  even  born  in  a  room,  which  the  master  of  the  house  had 
prepared  as  a  prison  for  his  wife  for  coming  to  hear  me.    With 
joy  would  she  often  look    upon  the  bars,  and  staples,  and 
chains  which  were  fixed  in  order  to  keep  her  in.     About  a 
week  after   his  birth,   I  publicly  baptized  him  in  the  Taber- 
nacle, and  in  the  company  of  thousands  solemnly  gave  him  up 
to  that  God  who  gave  him  to  me.      A  hymn,  too  fondly  com- 
posed, by  an  aged  widow,  as  suitable  to  the  occasion,  was  sung 
and  all  went  away  big  with  hopes  of  the  child's  being  hereafter 
to  be  employed  in  the  work  of  God ;    but  how  soon  are  all 
their  fond,  and,  as  the  event  hath  proved,  their  ill-grounded  ex- 
pectations blasted  as  well  as  mine!   Housekeeping  being  ex- 
pensive in  London,  I  thought  it  best  to  send  both  parent  and 
child  to  Abergavenny,  where  my  wife  had  a  little  house  of  my 
own,  the  furniture  of  which,  as  I  thought  of  soon  embarking 
for  Georgia,  I  had  partly  sold,  and  partly  given  away.     In 
their  journey  thither,  they  stopped  at  Gloucester,  at  the  Bell 
Inn,   which  my    brother    now   keeps,  and   in   which  I   was 
born.     There  my  beloved  was  cut  off  with  a  stroke.      Upon 
my  coming  here,  without  knowing  what  had  happened,  1  in- 
quired concerning  the  welfare  of  parent  and  child  ;  and  by 
the  answer  found  that  the  flower  was  cut  down.     I  immedi- 
ately called  all  to  join  in  prayer,  in  which  I  blessed  the  Father  of 
mercies  for  giving  me  a  son,  continuing  it  to  me  so  long,  and 
taking  it  from  me  so  soon.     All  joined  in  desiring  that  I 
would  decline  preaching,  till  the  child  was  buried  ;  but  I  re- 
membered a  saying  of  good  Mr.  Henry,  '  that  weeping  must 
not  hinder  sowing,'  and  therefore   preached  twice  the   next 
day,  and  also  the  day  following  ;    on  the  evening   of  which, 
just  as  I  was  closing  my  sermon,  the  bell  struck  out  for  the 
funeral !     At  first,  I  must  acknowledge,  it  gave  nature  a  little 
shake,  but,   looking  up,  I  recovered  strength,  and  then  con- 
cluded with  saying,  that  this  text  on  which  I  had  been  preach- 
ing, namely,    4  All   things  worked  together  for  good  to  them 
that  love  God,'  made  me  as  willing  to  go   out  to  my  son's 
funeral,  as  to  hear  of  his  birth.     Our  parting  from  him  was 
solemn.     We  kneeled  down,  prayed,  and  shed  many  tears, 
but  I  hope  tears  of  resignation  :  and  then,  as  he  died  in  the 
house  wherein  I  was  born,  he  was  taken  and  laid  in  the  church 
where  I  was  baptized,  first  communicated,  and  first  preached. 


WHITEFIELD'S    LIFE     AND    TIMES.  205 

All  this,  you  may  easily  guess,  threw  me  into  very  solemn 
and  deep  reflection,  and  I  hope  deep  humiliation;  but  I  was 
comforted  from  that  passage  in  the  book  of  Kings,  where  is 
recorded  the  death  of  the  Shunammite's  child,  which  the 
prophet  said,  'the  Lord  had  hid  from  him;'  and  the  woman's 
answer  likewise  to  the  prophet  when  he  asked,  '  Is  it  well 
with  thee  1  Is  it  well  with  thy  husband  ?  Is  it  well  with  thy 
child?'  And  she  answered,  *  It  is  well.'  This  gave  me  no 
small  satisfaction.  I  immediately  preached  upon  the  text  the 
day  following  at  Gloucester,  and  then  hastened  up  to  London, 
preached  upon  the  same  there  ;  and  though  disappointed  of  a 
living  preacher  by  the  death  of  my  son,  yet  I  hope  what  hap- 
pened before  his  birth,  and  since  at  his  death,  hath  taught  me 
such  lessons,  as,  if  duly  improved,  may  render  his  mistaken 
parent  more  cautious,  more  sober-minded,  more  experienced 
in  Satan's  devices,  and  consequently  more  useful  in  his  future 
labours  to  the  church  of  God.  Thus,  '  out  of  the  eater  comes 
forth  sweetness.'  Not  doubting  hut  our  future  life  will  be 
one  continued  explanation  of  this  blessed  riddle,  I  commend 
myself  and  you  to  the  unerring  guidance  of  God's  word  and 
Spirit." 

Happily  for  himself,  White  field  had  the  prosecution  of  the 
Hampton  rioters  to  provide  for  at  this  time.  This  compelled 
him  to  bestir  himself  in  visiting  and  corresponding,  in  order  to 
obtain  money  to  meet  the  expenses  of  the  trial.  He  took  a 
right  view  of  that  outrage  when  he  said,  "  much  depends  on 
our  getting  the  victory."  Colonel  Gardiner  (now  his  friend) 
entered  into  this  view  of  the  case,  and  sustained  him.  So 
did  many  other  influential  men.  A  lady,  also,  in  Wales,  sub- 
scribed five  pounds  towards  the  expenses.  The  Welsh  As- 
sociation were  "  very  generous,  according  to  their  circum- 
stances ;  "  and  the  Tabernacle  friends  had  "  a  glorious  fast, 
at  which  they  collected  above  sixty  pounds  "  for  the  assist- 
ance of  their  suffering  brethren  at  Hampton.  The  following 
is  his  own  account  of  "  The  Occasion,  Process,  and  Issue 
of  the  trial  at  Gloucester,  March  3,  1743." 

"  On  Thursday  evening  I  came  hither  from  the  Gloucester 
assizes,  where  I  have  been  engaged  in  a  trial  between  some 
of  those  who  are  called  Methodists,  and  some  violent  rioters. 
Perhaps  this  news  may  a  little  startle  you,  and  put  you  upon 
inquiry  (as  it  hath  done  some  others)  «  How  we  came  to  go  to 
law  with  our  adversaries,  when  it  is  our  avowed  principle  to 
suffer  patiently  for  the  truth's  sake  ? '   I  will  tell  you,  my  dear 

23 


266       whttefield's    life    and    times. 

friend  :  though  perhaps  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  more 
abused  than  the  law,  and  there  are  very  tew  that  go  to  law  out 
of  a  proper  principle,  yet  we  hold  that  there  is  a  proper  use  of 
it,  and  the  law  is  good  when  used  lawfully.  Whether  or  no 
we  have  used  it  lawfully  in  the  present  case,  I  shall  leave  my 
friend  to  judge,  after  I  have  told  him  the  motives  that  induced 
us  to  engage  in  it. — The  Methodists,  you  know,  are  every 
where  accounted  enthusiasts,  in  the  worst  sense  of  the  word  ; 
but  though  they  are  accounted  such,  yet  they  would  not  be 
enthusiasts  in  reality.  Now  we  look  upon  it  to  be  one  spe- 
cies of  enthusiasm,  to  expect  to  attain  an  end  without  mak- 
ing use  of  proper  means.  We  also  think  that  believers  should 
be  very  careful  not  to  be  fond  of  suffering  persecution,  when 
they  may  avoid  it  by  making  application  to  the  high  powers. 
We  are  likewise  of  opinion,  that  good  Christians  will  be  good 
subjects,  and  consequently  it  is  their  duty,  as  much  as  in  them 
lies,  to  put  a  stop  to  every  thing  in  a  rightful  way,  that  may 
prove  destructive  to  the  king  or  the  government  under  which 
they  live.  Christian  ministers,  in  particular,  we  think,  ought 
to  consider  the  weakness  of  people's  grace,  and,  in  pity  to 
precious  souls,  do  what  they  can  to  remove  every  thing  out  of 
the  way  that  may  discourage  or  prevent  poor  people's  hearing 
the  everlasting  gospel.  These  considerations,  my  dear 
friend,  for  some  time  past,  have  led  me  to  examine  whether 
the  Methodists  in  general  (and  I  myself  in  particular)  have 
acted  the  part  of  good  subjects,  and  judicious  Christian  min- 
isters, in  so  long  neglecting  to  make  an  application  to  the 
superior  courts,  and  putting  in  execution  the  wholesome  laws 
of  the  land,  in  order  to  prevent  those  many  dreadful  outrages 
which  have  been  committed  against  us.  I  need  not  descend 
to  particulars.  Our  Weekly  History  is  full  of  them ;  and 
before  that  came  out,  several  of  our  brethren,  both  in  England 
and  Wales,  have  received  much  damage  from  time  to  time, 
and  been  frequently  in  great  hazard  of  their  lives.  Wiltshire 
has  been  very  remarkable  for  mobbing  and  abusing  the  Metho- 
dists; and,  for  about  ten  months  last  past,  it  has  also  prevail- 
ed very  much  in  Gloucestershire,  especially  at  Hampton, 
where  our  friend  Mr.  Adams  has  a  dwelling-house,  and  has 
been  much  blessed  to  many  people.  This  displeased  the 
grand  enemy  of  souls,  who  stirred  up  many  of  the  baser 
sort,  privately  encouraged  by  some  of  a  higher  rank,  to 
come  from  time  to  time,  in  great  numbers,  with  a  low-bell 
and  horn,  to  beset  the  house,  and  beat  and  abuse  the  people. 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       207 

"  About  the  beginning  of  July  last,  their  opposition  seemed 
to  rise  to  the  highest.  For  several  days  they  aesernbled  in 
great  bodies,  broke  the  windows,  and  mobbed  the  people  to 
such  a  degree,  that  many  expected  to  be  murdered,  and  hid 
themselves  in  holes  and  corners,  to  avoid  the  rage  of  their 
adversaries.  Once,  when  I  was  there,  they  continued  from 
four  in  the  afternoon  till  midnight,  rioting,  giving  loud  huzzas, 
casting  dirt  upon  the  hearers,  and  making  proclamations, 
'  That  no  anabaptists,  presbyterians,  &c,  should  preach 
there,  upon  pain  of  being  first  put  into  a  tan-pit,  and  after- 
wards into  a  brook.'  At  another  time  they  pulled  one  or  two 
women  down  the  stairs  by  the  hair  of  their  heads.  And  on 
the  10th  of  July  they  came,  to  the  number  of  near  a  hundred, 
in  their  usual  way,  with  a  low-bell  and  horn,  about  five  in  the 
afternoon,  forced  into  Mr.  Adams's  house,  and  demanded  him 
down  the  stairs  whereon  he  was  preaching,  took  him  out  of 
his  house,  and  threw  him  into  a  tan-pit  full  of  noisome  things 
and  stagnated  water.  One  of  our  friends  named  Williams 
asking  them,  '  If  they  were  not  ashamed  to  serve  an  inno- 
cent man  so  1 '  they  put  him  into  the  same  pit  twice,  and 
afterwards  beat  him,  and  dragged  him  along  the  kennel.  Mr. 
Adams  quietly  returned  home,  and  betook  himself  to  prayer, 
and  exhorted  the  people  to  rejoice  in  suffering  for  the  sake  of 
the  gospel.  In  about  half  an  hour  they  came  to  the  house 
again,  dragged  him  down  the  stairs,  and  led  him  away  a  mile 
and  a  half  to  a  place  called  Bourn  Brook,  and  then  threw 
him  in.  A  stander-by,  fearing  he  might  be  drowned,  jumped 
in  and  pulled  him  out  ;  whereupon  another  of  the  rioters  im- 
mediately pushed  him  into  the  pool  a  second  time,  and  cut 
his  leg  against  a  stone,  so  that  he  went  lame  for  near  a  fort- 
night. Both  the  constables  and  justices  were  applied  to,  but 
refused  to  act,  and  seemed  rather  to  countenance  the  mob- 
bing, hoping  thereby,  Methodism  (as  they  called  it)  would  be 
put  a  stop  to,  at  least  at  Hampton.  For  a  season  they  gain- 
ed their  end.  There  was  no  preaching  for  some  time,  the 
people  fearing  to  assemble  on  account  of  the  vio  e.ce  of  the 
mob. 

"  Upon  my  return  to  town,  I  advised  with  my  friends  what 
to  do.  We  knew  we  wanted  to  exercise  no  revenge  against 
the  rioters,  and  yet  we  thought  it  wrong  that  the  gospel  should 
be  stopped  by  such  persons,  when  the  government  under 
which  we  lived  countenanced  no  such  thing  ;  and  also  that  it 
was  absurd  to  thank  God  for  wholesome  laws,  if  they  were 


268        whitefikld's   life    and  times. 

not  to  be  made  use  of.  We  knew  very  well  that  an  apostle 
had  told  us,  that  magistrates  were  ordained  for  the  punish- 
ment of  evil-doers  ;  and  that  they  bear  not  the  sword  in  vain. 
We  were  also  fearful  that  if  any  of  our  brethren  should  be 
murdered  by  future  riotings,  (as  in  all  probability  they  might,) 
we  should  be  accessary  to  their  death,  if  we  neglected  to  tie 
up  the  rioters'  hands,  which  was  all  we  desired  to  do.  Be- 
sides, we  could  not  look  upon  this  as  allowed  persecution, 
since  it  was  not  countenanced  by  the  laws  of  the  land,  and  we 
might  have  redress  from  these  rioters  and  inferior  magistrates, 
by  appealing  to  Caesar,  whose  real  friends  and  loyal  subjects 
we  judged  ourselves  not  to  be,  if  we  suffered  his  laws  to  be 
publicly  trampled  under  foot  by  such  notorious  rioting  ;  and 
which,  though  begun  against  the  Methodists,  might  terminate  in 
open  rebellion  against  King  George.  For  these  and  such  like 
reasons,  we  thought  it  our  duty  to  move  for  an  information  in 
the  King's  Bench  against  five  of  the  ringleaders,  and  fixed 
upon  the  riot  which  they  made  on  Sunday,  July  10th,  when 
they  put  Mr.  Adams  and  Williams  into  the  tan-pit  and  brook. 
But  before  this  was  done,  I  wrote  a  letter  to  one  whom  they 
called  Captain,  desiring  him  to  inform  his  associates,  '  That 
if  they  would  acknowledge  their  fault,  pay  for  curing  a  boy's 
arm,  which  was  broken  the  night  I  was  there,  and  mend  the 
windows  of  Mr.  Adams's  house,  we  would  readily  pass  all  by; 
but  if  they  persisted  in  their  resolutions  to  riot,  we  thought  it 
our  duty  to  prevent  their  doing,  and  others  receiving,  further 
damage,  by  moving  for  an  information  against  them  in  the 
King's  Bench.'  I  also  sent  a  copy  of  this  letter  to  a  minister 
of  the  town,  and  to  a  justice  of  the  peace,  with  a  letter  to  each 
from  myself:  but  all  in  vain.  The  rioters  sent  me  a  most 
insolent  answer,  wrote  me  word,  '  They  were  in  high  spirits, 
and  were  resolved  there  should  be  no  preaching  in  Hampton.' 
Finding  them  irre claimable,  we  moved  the  next  term  for  a  rule 
of  court  in  the  King's  Bench,  to  lodge  an  information  against 
five  of  the  ringleaders,  for  the  outrage  committed,  violence 
offered,  and  damage  done  to  Mr.  Adams  and  Williams,  on 
Sunday,  July  10th.  The  rioters  were  apprized  of  it,  appear- 
ed by  their  counsel,  and  prayed  the  rule  might  be  enlarged  till 
the  next  term.  It  was  granted.  In  the  mean  while  they 
continued  mobbing,  broke  into  Mr.  Adams's  house  one  Satur- 
day night  at  eleven  o'clock,  when  there  was  no  preaching, 
made  those  that  were  in  bed  get  up,  and  searched  the  oven, 
cellar,  and  every  corner  of  the  house,  to  see  whether  they 


whitefield's   life   and   times.         269 

could  find  any  Methodists.  Some  time  after,  they  threw  an- 
oher  oung  man  into  a  mud-pit  three  times  successively,  and 
abuse     the  people  in  a  dreadful  manner. 

**  The  next  term  came  on.  We  proved  our  accusations  by 
twenty-six  affidavits  ;  and  the  defendants  making  no  reply, 
the  rule  was  made  absolute,  and  an  information  filed  against 
them.  To  this  they  pleaded  not  guilty  ;  and  according  to  the 
method  in  the  Crown  Office,  the  cause  was  referred  to  the 
assize  held  at  Gloucester,  March  3d.  Thither  I  went,  and 
on  Tuesday  morning  last,  the  trial  came  on.  It  was  given 
out  by  some  that  the  Methodists  were  to  lose  the  cause, 
whether  right  or  wrong.  And  I  believe  the  defendants  de- 
pended much  on  a  supposition  that  the  gentlemen  and  jury 
would  be  prejudiced  against  us.  We  were  easy,  knowing 
that  our  Saviour  had  the  hearts  of  all  in  his  hands.  Being 
aware  of  the  great  consequences  of  gaining  or  losing  thi8 
trial,  both  in  respect  to  us  and  the  nation,  we  kept  a  day  of 
fasting  and  prayer  through  all  the  societies,  both  in  England 
and  Wales.  Our  Scotch  friends  also  joined  with  us,  and 
cheerfully  committed  our  cause  into  His  hands  by  whom  kings 
reign  and  princes  decree  justice.  We  had  about  thirty  wit- 
nesses to  prove  the  riot  and  facts  laid  down  in  the  informa- 
tion. Our  counsel  opened  the  cause,  (as  I  heard,  being  not 
present  when  the  trial  begun)  with  much  solidity  and  sound 
reasoning  :  they  showed  that  rioters  were  not  to  be  reformers, 
and  that  his  Majesty  had  no  where  put  the  reins  of  govern- 
ment into  the  hands  of  mobbers,  or  made  them  judge  or  jury. 
One  of  them  in  particular,  with  great  gravity,  reminded  the 
gentlemen  on  the  jury  of  the  advice  of  Gamaliel,  a  doctor  of 
the  law,  recorded  Acts  v.  38,  39,  "  Refrain  from  these  men, 
and  let  them  alone  ;  for  if  this  counsel,  or  this  work,  be  of 
men,  it  will  come  to  naught ;  but  if  it  be  of  God,  ye  cannot 
overthrow  it,  lest  haply  ye  be  found  even  to  fight  against 
God.'  Our  witnesses  were  then  called.  I  came  into  court 
when  the  second  witness  was  examining.  Mr.  Adams  and 
four  more  (three  of  which  were  not  called  Methodists)  so 
clearly  proved  both  the  riot  and  the  facts  laid  to  the  charge  of 
the  defendants,  that  the  judge  was  of  opinion  there  needed  no 
other  evidence.  The  counsel  for  the  defendants  then  rose 
and  exerted  a  good  deal  of  oratory,  and  I  think  said  all  that 
could  well  be  said,  to  make  the  best  of  a  bad  matter.  One 
urged  that  we  were  enthusiasts,  and  our  principles  and  prac- 
tices had  such  a  tendency  to  infect  and  hurt  the  people,  that 

23* 


270  WHITEFIELD'S     LIFE     AND     TIMES. 

it  was  right,  in  his  opinion,  for  any  private  person  to  stand  up 
and  put  a  slop  to  us ;  and  whoever  did  so  was  a  friend  to  his 
country.  He  strove  to  influence  the  jury  by  telling  them, 
that  if  a  verdict  was  given  against  the  defendants,  it  would 
cost  them  two  hundred  pounds  :  that  the  defendants'  rioting 
ttras  not  premeditated  ;  but  that,  coming  to  hear  Mr.  Adams, 
and  being  offended  at  his  doctrine,  a  sudden  quarrel  arose, 
and  thereby  the  unhappy  men  were  led  into  the  present  fray, 
which  he  could  have  wished  had  not  happened  ;  but  however 
it  did  not  amount  to  a  riot,  but  only  an  assault.  Their  other 
counsel  then  informed  the  jury,  that  they  would  undertake  to 
prove  that  the  Methodists  began  the  tumults  first.  He  was 
pleased  also  to  mention  me  by  name,  and  acquainted  the  court, 
that  Mr.  Whitefield  had  been  travelling  from  common  to  com- 
mon, making  the  people  cry,  and  then  picking  their  pockets, 
under  pretence  of  collecting  money  for  the  colony  of  Georgia  ; 
and  knowing  that  Gloucestershire  was  a  populous  county,  he 
at  last  came  there.  That  he  had  now  several  curates,  of 
which  Mr.  Adams  was  one,  who,  in  his  preaching,  had  found 
fault  with  the  proceedings  of  the  clergy,  and  said  if  the  peo- 
ple went  to  hear  them  they  would  be  damned.  He  added,  that 
there  had  lately  been  such  a  mobbing  in  Staffordshire,  that  a 
regiment  of  soldiers  was  sent  down  to  suppress  them  ;  insinu- 
ating that  the  Methodists  were  the  authors  :  that  we  had  now 
another  cause  of  a  like  nature  depending  in  Wiltshire  ;  and 
that  we  were  not  of  that  mild,  pacific  spirit  as  we  would 
pretend  to  be. — This  and  much  more  to  the  same  purpose, 
though  foreign  to  the  matter  in  hand,  pleased  many  of  the 
auditors,  who  expressed  their  satisfaction  in  hearing  the  Meth- 
odists in  general,  and  me  in  particular,  thus  lashed,  by  fre- 
quent laughing.  The  eyes  of  all  were  upon  me.  Our 
Saviour  kept  me  quite  easy.  I  thought  of  that  verse  of 
Horace, 

' Hie  murus  aheneus  esto, 

Nil  consciie  sibi,  nulla  pallescere  culpa.' 

Tertullus's  accusing  Paul  came  also  to  my  mind,  and  I  looked 
upon  myself  as  highly  honoured  in  having  such  things  spoken 
against  me  falsely  for  Christ's  great  name's  sake.  To  prove 
what  the  defendants'  counsel  had  insinuated,  they  called  up  a 
young  man,  who  was  brother  to  one  of  the  defendants,  and 
one  of  the  mob.  He  swore  point  blank,  that  Mr.  Adams  said, 
if  people  went  to  church  they  would  be  damned  ;  and  if  they 


whitefield's  life   and   times.         271 

would  come  to  him,  he  would  carry  them  to  Jesus  Christ- 
He  swore  also,  that  the  pool  into  which  Mr.  Adams  was 
thrown,  was  no  deeper  than  half-way  up  his  legs.  He  said 
first,  that  there  were  ahout  ten  of  them  that  came  to  the  house 
of  Mr.  Adams,  and  then  he  swore  that  there  were  about 
threescore.  He  said  there  was  a  low-bell,  and  that  one  of 
the  defendants  did  ask  Mr.  Adams  to  come  down  off  the 
stair.s,  but  that  none  of  them  went  up  to  him  ;  upon  which  Mr. 
Adams  willingly  obeyed,  went  with  them  briskly  along  the 
street,  and,  as  he  would  have  represented  it,  put  himself  into 
the  tan-pit  and  pool,  and  so  came  out  again !  He  said  also 
some  other  things  :  but,  throughout  his  whole  evidence,  ap- 
peared so  flagrantly  false,  that  one  of  the  counsellors  said,  it 
was  enough  to  make  his  hair  stand  on  end.  The  judge  him- 
self wished  he  had  had  so  much  religion  as  to  fear  an  oath, 
so  he  went  down  in  disgrace.  Their  second  evidence  was 
an  aged  woman,  mother  to  one  of  the  defendants.  She  swore 
that  her  son  did  go  up  the  stairs  to  Mr.  Adams,  and  that  Mr. 
Adams  tore  her  son's  coat,  and  would  have  broken  his  neck 
down  stairs.  But  she  talked  so  fast,  and  her  evidence  was  so 
palpably  false,  that  she  was  sent  away  in  as  much  disgrace 
as  the  other.  Their  third  and  last  evidence  was  father  to  one 
who  was  in  the  mob,  though  not  one  of  the  defendants.  The 
chief  he  had  to  say  was,  that  when  Mr.  Adams  was  coming 
from  the  pool,  one  met  him,  and  said,  '  Brother,  how  do  you 
do  ? '  Upon  which  he  answered,  that  he  had  received  no 
damage,  but  had  been  into  the  pool  and  came  out  again.  So 
that  all  their  evidences,  however  contrary  one  to  another,  yet 
corroborated  ours,  and  proved  the  riot  out  of  their  own 
mouths.  The  book  was  then  given  to  a  justice  of  the  peace, 
who  had  formerly  taken  up  Mr.  Cennick  for  preaching  near 
Stroud,  and  had  lately  given  many  signal  proofs  that  he  was 
no  friend  to  the  Methodists.  But  he  intending  to  speak  only 
about  their  characters,  and  the  counsel  and  judge  looking 
upon  that  as  quite  impertinent  to  the  matter  in  hand,  he  was 
not  admitted  as  an  evidence.  Upon  this,  his  lordship,  with 
great  candour  and  impartiality,  summed  up  the  evidence,  and 
told  the  jury,  that  he  thought  they  should  bring  all  the  defend- 
ants in  guilty  :  for  our  evidences  had  sufficiently  proved  the 
whole  of  the  information,  and  also,  that  the  riot  was  premedi- 
tated. He  said,  that  in  his  opinion,  the  chief  of  the  defend- 
ants' evidence  was  incredible;  and  that,  supposing  the 
Methodists  were  heterodox,  (as  perhaps  they   might  be,)   it 


272         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

belonged  to  the  ecclesiastical  government  to  call  them  to 
an  jiccount ;  hat  they  were  subjects,  and  riotous  men  were 
not  to  be  their  reformers.  He  also  reminded  them  of  the 
dreadful  ill  consequences  of  rioting  at  any  ;ime,  much  more 
at  such  a  critical  time  as  this  ;  that  rioting  was  the  forerunner 
of,  and  might  end  in,  rebellion  ;  that  it  was  felony,  without 
benefit  of  clergy  to  pull  down  a  meeting-house  :  and,  for  all 
he  knew,  it  was  high  treason  to  pull  down  even  a  brothel. 
That  this  information  came  from  the  King's  Bench  ;  that  his 
Majesty's  justices  there  thought  they  had  sufficient  reason  to 
grant  it  ;  that  the  matters  contained  in  it  had  been  evidently 
proved  before  them,  and  consequently  they  should  bring  all 
the  defendants  in  guilty.  Upon  this  the  jury  were  desired  to 
consider  of  their  verdict.  There  seemed  to  be  some  little  de- 
mur amongst  them.  His  lordship  perceiving  it,  informed 
them,  They  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  damages,  (that  was  to 
be  referred  to  the  King's  Bench,)  they  were  only  to  consider 
whether  the  defendants  were  guilty  or  not. 

"Whereupon  in  a  few  minutes,  they  gave  a  verdict  for  the 
prosecutors,  and  brought  in  all  the  defendants,  'guilty  of  the 
whole  information  lodged  against  them.'  I  then  retired  to 
my  lodgings,  kneeled  down,  and  gave  thanks  with  some 
friends  to  our  all-conquering  Emmanuel.  Afterwards  I  went 
to  the  inn,  prayed,  and  returned  thanks  with  the  witnesses,  ex- 
horted them  to  behave  with  meekness  and  humility  to  their 
adversaries,  and  after  they  had  taken  proper  refreshment  sent 
them  home  rejoicing.  In  the  evening  I  preached  on  those 
words  of  the  psalmist,  '  By  this  I  know  that  thou  favourest 
me,  since  thou  hast  not  suffered  mine  enemy  to  triumph  over 
me.'  God  was  pleased  to  enlarge  my  heart  much.  I  was 
very  happy  with  my  friends  afterwards,  and  the  next  morning 
set  out  for  London,  where  we  have  had  a  blessed  thanksgiv- 
ing season,  and  from  whence  I  take  the  first  opportunity  of 
sending  you  as  many  particulars  of  the  occasion,  progress, 
and  issue  of  our  trial,  as  i  can  well  recollect.  What  report 
his  lordship  will  be  pleased  to  make  of  the  case,  and  how  the 
defendants  will  be  dealt  with,  cannot  be  known  till  next  term; 
when  I  know  I  shall  apprize  you  of  it,  as  also  of  our  beha- 
viour towards  them. — In  the  meanwhile  let  me  entreat  you  to 
give  thanks  to  the  blessed  Jesus  in  our  behalf,  and  to  pray 
that  his  word  may  have  free  course,  may  run  and  be  glorified, 
and  a  stop  be  put  to  all  such  rebellious  proceedings."  The 
Trial,  in  a  Letter  to  a  Friend. 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         273 

"VVhitefield  had  also  at  this  time  to  put  some  writers  as  well 
as  rioters  upon  their  defence.  An  anonymous  pamphlet,  "On 
the  Conduct  and  Behaviour  of  the  Methodists,"  had  obtained 
no  small  sanction  from  the  bishops.  Indeed,  the  bishop  of 
London  was  reported  to  be  the  author  of  it.  The  object  of  it 
was,  to  prove  the  Methodists  to  be  dangerous  to  both  church 
and  state,  and  to  obtain  an  Act  of  Parliament  against  them, 
which  would  stop  their  field  preaching  and  conventicles,  or 
compel  them  "  to  secure  themselves  by  turning  dissenters." 
The  Toleration  Act,  it  argued,  did  not  permit  their  irregulari- 
ties :  and  besides,  they  were  enthusiasts!  Parts  of  this 
pamphlet  seem  to  have  been  printed  and  handed  about  se- 
cretly at  first,  as  feelers  of  the  pulse  of  the  religious  societies. 
Strict  injunctions  were  given  to  every  one  who  was  intrusted 
with  any  of  them,  "  not  to  lend  them,  nor  let  them  go  out  of 
his  hands."  Whitefield,  however,  obtained  a  sight  of  them  ; 
and  finding  that  they  contained  not  only  charges  against  him- 
self, but  a  deep  design  against  religious  liberty,  he  advertised 
in  the  newspapers,  and  demanded  their  speedy  publication, 
that  he  might  answer  them  before  he  went  to  America.  He 
followed  up  this  advertisement  by  a  private  letter  to  the  bishop 
of  London.  "My  lord,  simplicity  becomes  the  followers  of 
Jesus  Christ,  and  therefore  I  think  it  my  duty  to  trouble  your 
lordship  with  a  few  lines,  concerning  the  anonymous  papers 
which  have  been  handed  about  in  the  societies.  As  I  think 
it  my  duty  to  answer  them,  I  should  be  glad  to  be  informed 
whether  the  report  be  true,  that  your  lordship  composed  them, 
that  I  may  the  better  know  how  to  answer  them.  A  sight 
also  of  one  of  the  copies,  if  in  your  lordship's  keeping, 
would  much  oblige."  His  lordship  sent  word  by  the  bearer, 
that  Whitefield  should  "  hear  from  him  ;  "  but  he  forgot  his 
promise.  VVhitefield  heard  from  the  printer,  not  from  the 
prelate.  "Sir,  my  name  is  Owen.  I  am  a  printer  in  Amen 
Corner.  I  have  had  orders  from  several  of  the  bishops  to 
print  for  their  use,  such  numbers  of  the  'Observations  '  (with 
some  few  additions)  as  they  have  respectively  bespoken.  I 
will  not  fail  to  wait  on  you  with  one  copy,  as  soon  as  the  im- 
pression is  finished."  Owen  kept  his  word.  He  did  not 
venture,  however,  to  put  his  name  on  the  title  page  of  the 
pamphlet,  "to  let  the  world  know  where,  or  by  whom,  it  was 
printed."  "  It  came  into  the  world,"  says  Whitefield  in  a  let- 
ter to  the  bishop,  "like  a  dropped  child,  that  nobody  cares  to 


274  whitefield's    life    and    times. 

own.  And,  indeed,  who  can  be  blamed  for  disowning  such  a 
libel  ?  A  more  notorious  libel  has  not  been  published."     Lett. 

Whitefield  was  fully  justified  in  branding  the  pamphlet  thus. 
It  charged  the  Methodists  with  making  "  open  inroads  on  the 
national  constitution  ;  "  with  pretending  to  be  "members  of 
the  national  church  ;  "  with  being  M  open  defiers  of  govern- 
ment," as  well  as  breakers  of  "  the  canons  and  rubrics." 
His  answer  to  this,  Whitefield  addressed,  very  properly,  to 
"  The  bishop  of  London,  and  the  other  bishops  concerned  in 
the  publication,"  of  such  charges  ;  taking  for  his  motto  the 
appropriate  words,  "False  witnesses  did  rise  up  :  they  laid  to 
my  charge  things  I  knew  not."  They  did  not  sit  down  so 
easily  as  they  rose  up  !  They  told  the  religious  societies, 
clandestinely,  that  methodism  was  unlawful;  and  Whitefield 
told  the  world,  openly,  that  this  mode  of  attack  was  "  like 
Nero  setting  fire  to  Rome,  and  then  charging  it  on  the  Chris- 
tians." "I  cannot  think,"  he  says,  "  that  such  a  way  of  pro- 
ceeding will  gain  your  lordships  any  credit  from  the  public — 
or  any  thanks  from  the  other  bishops  who  have  not  interest- 
ed themselves  in  this  aflair,  and  who,  I  believe,  are  more 
noble  than  to  countenance  the  publication  of  any  such  per- 
formance." 

This  bold  retort  upon  anonymous  slanderers,  astounded 
both  the  slaves  and  the  sycophants  of  "  superiors."  Preben- 
dary Church,  the  vicar  of  Battersea,  was  horrified  to  find  the 
heads  of  the  church  made  accountable  for  a  libel  they  had 
adopted,  if  not  indorsed.  This  is  the  worthy  to  whom  Boling- 
broke  said,  "Let  me  tell  you  seriously,  that  the  greatest  mi- 
racle in  the  world  is,  the  subsistence  of  Christianity,  and  its 
preservation  as  a  religion,  when  the  preaching  of  it  is  com- 
mitted to  the  care  of  such  unchristian  wretches  as  you." 
This  tremendous  rebuke  does  not,  I  think,  imply  all  that  the 
word  wretch  means.  It  refers  to  principles,  not  to  morals. 
I  am  led  to  this  conclusion,  because  Whitefield  treats  Church 
respectfully,  in  answering  his  pamphlet,  and  because  the  fol- 
lowing is  the  true  account  of  the  prebendary's  interview  with 
the  peer.  Church  found  Bolingbroke  reading  Calvin's  In- 
stitutes, one  day,  and  was  surprised.  "You  have  caught  me," 
said  the  viscount,  "  reading  John  Calvin.  He  was,  indeed,  a 
man  of  great  parts,  profound  sense,  and  vast  learning.  He 
handles  the  doctrines  of  grace  in  a  very  masterly  manner." 
(Strange  language  from  Bolingbroke  !  But  he  had  been  hear- 
ing  Whitefield  at    Lady    Huntingdon's    the    week    before.) 


whitefield's  life   and  times.        275 

"Doctrines  of  grace  !  "  exclaimed  Church,  "  the  doctrines  of 
grace  have  set  all  mankind  by  the  ears."  "I  am  surprised," 
said  Bolingbroke,  "  to  hear  you  say  so,  who  profess  to  be- 
lieve and  preach  Christianity.  Those  doctrines  are  certainly 
the  doctrines  of  the  Bible  ;  and  if  I  believe  the  Bible  I  must 
believe  them."  Then  came  the  well  known  rebuke  I  have 
quoted.  This  is  the  anecdote,  as  the  Countess  of  Hunting- 
don was  wont  to  tell  it ;  and  she  had  it  from  the  lips  of  Bo- 
lingbroke.     Toplady. 

I  would  not  have  referred  to  the  prebendary  or  his  pam- 
phlet, had  he  not  become  the  scape-goat  for  the  bishops  he  vin- 
dicated. There  is  quite  as  much  of  the  gospel  in  his  letter  to 
Whitefield,  as  in  their  charges  to  their  clergy.  The  only 
thing  amusing  in  Church's  letter  is  its  conclusion.  He 
charges  Whitefield  with  glaring  inconsistency,  in  blaming  the 
clergy  for  non-residence.  "  You  have  been  more  culpable 
than  any  of  them,"  he  says,  in  reference  to  Whitefield's  resi- 
dence at  Georgia.  He  then  proceeds  to  count  the  times,  and 
the  length  of  each  time,  that  Whitefield  was  at  his  post.  This 
was  pitiful ;  knowing  as  he  did  why  the  chaplain  of  the  colony 
travelled.  Well  might  Whitefield  say,  in  answer  to  this 
charge,  "  I  wish  every  non-resident  could  give  as  good  an  ac- 
count of  his  non-residence,  as  I  can  give  of  mine.  When  I 
was  absent  from  my  parishioners,  I  was  not  loitering  nor  liv- 
ing at  ease,  but  begging  for  them  and  theirs  ;  and  when  I  re- 
turned, it  was  not  to  fleece  my  flock,  and  then  go  and  spend 
it  upon  my  lusts,  or  to  lay  up  a  fortune  for  myself  and  my  re- 
lations."    Letter  to  Church.   ' 

Whitefield's  letter  to  the  bishops  called  forth  another  cham- 
pion of  the  clandestine  papers  ;  a  Pembroke  College  man, 
who  called  himself  "a  gentleman,"  although  he  took  a  motto 
from  that  vilest  of  all  vulgar  books,  "  The  Scotch  Presbyte- 
rian Eloquence."  He  did  not  fail  in  imitating  his  original. 
He  finds  in  Whitefield's  letter,  instead  of  "  the  arguing  of  the 
true  saint,  the  wheedling  of  the  woman  ;  the  daring  of  the  re- 
bel;  the  pertness  of  the  coxcomb;  the  evasions  of  the  Jesuit; 
and  the  bitter  maliciousness  of  the  bigot.''''  He  classes  him 
with  Bonner  and  Gardiner,  as  "  a  fire-brand  minister  of 
wrath;"  and  with  Cromwell,  whom  he  calls  "the  Whitefield 
of  the  last  century."  Why]  Because  he  "artfully  com- 
pounded churchmen  and  dissenters."  "It  will  be  an  eternal 
monument  of  your  disgrace,"  he  says  "that  dissenters  lived 
peaceably,  according  to  the  national  constitution,  and  preach- 


276     whitefield's    life    and    times. 

cd  in  licensed  places,  unlil  you  poisoned  and  corrupted  them, 
by  your  evil  communications."  Would  he  had  !  But  unfor- 
tunately for  the  dissenters  then,  Whitefield's  influence  had 
brought  only  two  into  the  fields,  as  fellow-helpers  with  him  in 
the  gospel. 

He  does  not  appear  to  have  noticed  this  Pembroke  gentle- 
man :  but  he  renewed  his  attack  upon  the  bishops,  when  he 
•went  to  sea.  On  his  voyage,  he  wrote  a  second  letter  to 
them.  They  had  made  the  anonymous  pamphlet  their  own, 
by  printing  and  circulating  it  at  their  own  expense ;  and  he 
held  them  accountable  for  its  doctrines,  as  well  as  its  politics. 
It  had  impugned  justification  by  faith,  and  he  stretched  them 
on  Luther's  rack ;  and  on  what  must  have  been  more  annoy- 
ing to  their  lordships,  the  fact,  that  this  doctrine  was  singled 
out  by  Edward  VI.  and  Elizabeth,  to  bo  principally  taught  to 
the  people  ;  "  Eirst,  because  it  is  the  chiefest  cause  and  means 
of  our  peace  with  God  ;  second,  that  ministers  might  go  with 
a  right-foot  (cp6ovo£eit)  to  the  gospel ;  third,  because  it  is  the 
best  way  '  to  discover  and  suppress  Romish  antichrist ; '  and 
fourth,  because  •  such  bishops  as  do,  by  terms  of  error, 
schism,  or  heresy,  hinder  this  main  light  of  God's  word  from 
the  people,  are  the  chiefest  traitors  in  the  land  ;  traitors  to 
God,  traitors  to  their  king,  traitors  to  their  own  souls  and 
bodies,  and  traitors  to  the  whole  country."  Homily.  Gibson 
remembered  this  homily  when  he  said,  "  Justification  by  faith 
alone  is  asserted  in  the  strongest  manner  by  our  church :" 
but  he  forgot  it  when  he  added,  "  I  hop*  our  clergy  explain  it 
in  such  a  manner,  as  to  leave  no  doubt  whether  good  works 
are  a  necessary  condition  of  being  justified  in  the  sight  of 
God."     Pastoral  Letter. 

From  this  vantage  ground,  Whitefield  assailed  both  Chil- 
lingworth  and  the  author  of  "  The  Whole  Duty  of  Man,"  as 
traitors  to  this  "  articulus  stantis  aid  caudentis  ecclesiaiV  The 
latter,  he  said,  had  shown  only  "  Half  the  Duty  of  Man  ;  "  and 
the  former  had  made  "  universal  obedience  a  necessary  condi- 
tion of  justification."  In  like  manner,  whilst  he  begged  pardon 
of  the  public  for  saying  that  Tillotson  knew  no  more  of  the 
gospel  than  Mahomet,  (a  comparison,  by  the  way,  which  he 
had  borrowed,)  he  repeated,  that  "  the  good  archbishop,  in 
turning  people's  minds  to  moral  duties,  without  turning  them 
to  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith,"  erred  from  the  faith. 

"Incidit  in  Scyliam,  qui  vult  vitare  Charibdin." 


WHITEFIELD 's     LIFE     AND     TIMES.  277 

He  did  not  embarrass  their  lordsdips  less  on  the  subject  of  re- 
generation. Their  adopted  champion  had  said,  "  If  there  be 
such  a  thing — as  a  sudden,  instantaneous  change."  "  If  there 
be,"  says  Whitefield,  "  does  he  not  lay  an  axe  to  the  very  root 
of  the  baptismal  office  2  If  the  child  be  actully  regenerated, 
when  the  minister  sprinkles  it,  the  change  must  be  instantane- 
ous and  sudden.  If  there  be  any  such  thing  !  Do  your  lordships 
assent  thereto  ?  An  instantaneous  change  is  the  very  essence 
of  baptismal  regeneration — that  Diana  of  the  present  clergy." 

He  concludes  this  bold  appeal  thus,  "If  the  whole  bench 
of  bishops  command  us  to  speak  no  more  of  this  doctrine,  we 
take  it  to  be  an  ungodly  admonition.  Whether  it  be  right  in 
the  sight  of  God,  to  obey  man  rather  than  God, — judge  ye  !  " 
Second  Letter. 

These  were  the  public  affairs  whichdiverted  Whitefield  from 
his  private  sorrows.  The  off-hand  and  unceremonious  style 
in  which  they  are  told,  can  only  offend  those  who  venerate 
titles  more  than  truth.  It  may  be  vastly  unpolite  to  treat 
bishops  in  this  straightforward  way,  when  they  pervert  the 
gospel :  it  is,  however,  apostolical,  to  pay  neither  deference 
nor  respect  to  an  angel,  if  he  preach  "another  gospel  "  than 
Paul's.  This  Gathercole  affair  of  the  bishop  of  London  can- 
not be  too  bluntly  told,  if  such  affairs  are  to  be  put  down. 
Binney  told  the  last  one  so  well,  that  there  will  be  fewer 
Gathercoles  patronized  in  the  next  century. 


24 


278        whitefield's    life    and    times 


CHAPTER  XII. 

WHITEFIELD      AT     CAMBUSLANG. 

Whitefield  went  in  the  power  of  the  Spirit  from  the  Pen- 
tecost at  Moorfields,  to  the  Pentecost  at  Cambuslang,  and 
Kilsyth,  in  Scotland.  His  return  to  the  north  was,  however, 
wormwood  and  gall  to  some  of  the  Associate  Presbytery. 
Adam  Gibb,  especially,  signalized  himself  on  the  very  first 
Sabbath  of  Whitefield's  labours  in  Edinburgh,  by  publishing  a 
"Warning  against  countenancing  his  ministrations."  This 
pamphlet  is  so  strange,  and  now  so  rare,  that  I  must  preserve 
some  specimens  of  it,  as  memorials  of  the  provocation  as 
well  as  opposition  given  to  Whitefield  by  the  seceders  of  that 
day.  Most  cheerfully,  however,  do  I  preface  them  with 
Fraser's  declaration,  that  "  the  violence  then  discovered  by 
individual  members  of  the  Presbytery,  has  not  only  been 
sincerely  deplored  by  their  successors  in  office  ;  but  that 
they  themselves  lived  to  repent  of  the  rancour  into  which  the 
heat  of  controversy  had  at  first  betrayed  them."  Even  Gibb 
it  is  said,  wished,  on  his  death-bed,  that  no  copies  of  his 
pamphlet  were  on  the  face  of  the  earth  ;  and  said,  if  he  could 
recall  every  copy  he  would  burn  them.  My  copy  was  pre- 
sented by  Dr.  Erskine  to  Dr.  Ryland,  who  wrote  the  following 
note  upon  it ; — "  A  Bitter  Warning  against  Mr.  Whitefield, 
by  Mr.  Gibb,  the  Seceder.  He  became  more  moderate  after- 
wards, and  spoke  respectfully  of  Mr.  Hervey's  writings,  and 
Mr.  Walker's  of  Truro."  I  am  quite  willing  that  these  facts 
should  be  borne  in  mind,  whilst  the  following  astounding 
charges  are  read. 

"  This  man  ('  Mr.  George  Whitefield  ')  I  have  no  scruple 
to  look  upon  as  one  of  the  false  Christs,  of  whom  the  church 
is  forewarned,  Matt.  xxiv.  24.  It  is  no  unusual  thing  with 
him,  in  his  journals,  to  apply  unto  himself  things  said  of  and 
by  the  Christ  of  God." — "  I  look  upon  him  in  his  public  minis- 
trations to  be  one  of  the  most  fatal  rocks  whereon  many  are 
now  splitting." — "  That  he  is  no  minister  of  Christ,  appears 
from  the  manner  wherein  that  office  he  bears  is  conveyed  to 


whitefield's   life   and  times.  279 

him.  Tic  derives  it  from  a  diocesan  bishop,  who  derives  his 
office  from  the  king,  and  the  king  professes  not  to  be  a  church 
officer.'' — "  Mr.  Whitcfield  in  swearing  the  oath  of  suprem- 
acy, has  sworn,  that  Christ  is  not  supreme  and  sole  Head  of 
the  church.  He  will  not  allege  that  he  hath  yet  vomited  that 
spiritual  poison." — "  His  universal  love  proceeds  on  the  erro- 
neous and  horrid  principle,  that  God  is  the  lover  of  all  souls, 
and  the  God  of  all  churches." — "The  horror  of  this  is  still 
more  awful,  because  he  hales  in  our  Lord  and  his  apostles  to 
patronize  this  catholic  spirit." — "  He  breaks  off  a  piece  of  the 
glass  of  truth,  and  turns  his  back  on  the  remainder ;  thus, 
though  he  hold  up  that  piece  of  the  glass,  I  say,  before  his 
face,  he  cannot  sec  the  true  Christ,  because  his  back  is  to- 
ward him.  So  then,  the  doctrine  of  grace  Mr.  Whitcfield 
retains,  cannot  possibly  discover  the  true  Christ,  because  his 
back  is  toward  him,  in  flouting  away  the  doctrine  that  dis- 
covers Christ  a  King  of  a  visible  kingdom." — "  The  doctrine 
of  grace,"  he  publishes,  "is  carried  off  from  its  true  posture, 
connexion,  and  use,  and  applied  to  a  diabolical  purpose  ;  viz. 
to  create  a  Christ  in  people's  imaginations,  as  a  competition 
with  the  true  Christ." — "  The  horror  of  this  scene  strikes  me 
almost  dumb.  I  must  halt,  and  give  way  to  some  awful  ideas 
that  I  cannot  vent  in  language  ; — 

'  Obstupui,  steteruntque  comae,  et 
Vox  faucibus  hresit !  ' " — 

"  The  proper  and  designing  author  of  his  scheme,  is  not  Mr. 
Whitefield,  but  Satan  :  and  thus  our  contendings  against  Mr. 
W.  must  be  proportioned,  not  to  his  design,  but  Satan's ; 
while  hereof  he  is  an  effectual  though  blinded  tool." — "  As 
for  the  gentleman  himself,  while  he  is  under  a  very  ruinous 
delusion,  and  thereby  gathering  upon  him  his  own  blood,  and 
the  blood  of  multitudes,  this  his  condition  loudly  requires  the 
pity  of  all  that  know  him.  And  I  know  of  no  way  wherein 
this  can  be  rightly  exercised,  without  avoiding  company  with 
him  that  he  may  be  ashamed,  2  Thess.  hi.  14.  In  this  man- 
ner it  is,  that  we  are  called  to  exercise  love  to  his  person,  and 
desire  of  his  recovery  :  for  as  his  unwarrantable  and  woful 
ministrations  must  be  idolatrous,  so  idolaters  (Whitefield's!) 
slay  their  own  children." — "  The  complex  scheme  of  Mr. 
W.'s  doctrine  is  diabolical,  as  proceeding  through  diabolical 
influence,  and  applied  to  a  diabolical  use,  against  the  Medi- 


280  IV  H  I  T  E  F  I  E  1.  D'S     LIFE     AND     TIMES. 

ator's  glory,  and  the  salvation  of  men." — "  What  shall 
be  the  procedure  of  God  in  such  a  dismal  case?  Can  His 
justice  sleep  now?  No!" — "Forasmuch  as  Mr.  White- 
field's  followers  do,  as  such,  seek  after  a  Christ,  convictions, 
and  conversions,  that  are  really  idols,  it  is  therefore  to 
be  fearfully  expected,  that  God  will,  in  judgment,  answer 
them  accordingly,  and  send  them  an  idol  Christ,  and  idol 
conversions,  according  to  their  lust.  God's  great  execu- 
tioner, Satan,  must  be  employed  in  the  producing  of  such 
effects.  He  will  ape  the  work  of  God's  spirit." — "  The  doc- 
trine of  impressions,  which  Mr.  W.  is  at  pains  to  teach,  is  a 
very  necessary  part  of  Satan's  doctrine." — Hence  Satan, 
while  kindling  men's  fancies,  must  carry  them  out  under  strong 
and  blind  impulses,  frights,  freaks,  raptures,  visions,  boast- 
ings, blunders,  &c." 

All  this,  as  it  stands  here,  seems  mere  rant  and  raving. 
In  the  pamphlet,  however,  it  is  blended  with  much  acute  rea- 
soning upon  the  subject  of  the  Kingship  of  Christ.  Gibb's 
grave  charge  against  VVhitefield  was,  that  he  preached  Christ 
only  as  a  Saviour:  not  meaning,  however,  that  he  did  not 
enforce  holiness  of  life  ;  but  that  he  taught  a  iatitudinarian 
scheme  of  church  polity,  the  tendency  of  which  was,  to 
"  make  men  skeptics  as  to  the  discipline  and  government  of 
the  house  of  God."  And  there  is  some  truth  in  this.  White- 
field  knew  little  and  cared  less  about  the  visible  form  of  the 
kingdom  of  Christ  in  the  world.  All  his  concern  was,  to  see 
His  spiritual  kingdom  set  up  in  the  hearts  of  individuals.  But 
whilst  it  is  well  that  this  was  his  chief  object,  it  was  well  too 
that  others  laid  more  stress  than  himself  upon  church  govern- 
ment. Gibb  laid  too  much ;  but  Whitefield  went  to  an 
equally  unscriptural  extreme.  Accordingly,  \\  hitefield's  so- 
cieties, in  general,  subsided  into  other  churches  ;  especially 
in  America. 

It  must  not  be  supposed,  that  Gibb  predicted  the  scenes  of 
Cambuslang  or  Kilsyth.  It  was  cheap  prophesying  on  July 
23d,  1742,  that  a  lying  spirit,  working  by  "the  foreigner^ 
(Whitefield,)  would  produce  "strong  impulses,  frights,  freaks, 
and  visions."  The  effects,  thus  exaggerated,  had  begun  at 
Cambuslang  in  the  winter  of  1741,  under  the  ministry  of 
M'Cullock,  the  pastor  of  the  parish.  "His  hearers,  in  consi- 
derable  numbers,  were  on  different  occasions  so  violently 
agitated,  while  he  preached  regeneration,  as  to  fall  down  under 
visible  paroxysms  of  bodily  agony.    But  nothing  can  be  more 


whitefield's   life   and  times.  281 

Certain,  than  that  the  unusual  events  had  been  a  subject  of 
general  observation  and  inquiry,  for  many  months  before 
Whitefield  had  ever  been  at  Cambuslang.  It  is  impossible  to 
identify  their  commencement  with  his  labours,  by  any  fair  ex- 
amination of  the  facts  as  they  occurred."  Sir  Henry  Man- 
crieff  WelwoorVs  Life  of  Dr.  Erskine. 

Whitefield   did   not  lessen  the   effect,  however,  when   he 
went;    and  thus   Gibb's  tirade,  being  well  timed  to  White- 
field's  visit,  seemed   prophecy;    for  the  warning   and   the 
work  came  before  the  public  at  large  together.     It  was  this 
coincidence  that  gave  so  much  point  and  currency  amongst 
the   seceders,  to   the  proverbial  maxim,  that  "  the  wark  at 
Caumuslang  was  a  wark  61  the  deevil."     Seceders  were  not 
the  only  persons,  however,  that  said  that  Whitefield  cast  out 
devils  by  the  power  of  Beelzebub.     Bishop  Lavington  con- 
cludes his  examination  of  the  enthusiasm  of  Methodists  thus  : 
"If  there  be  any  thing  in  it  exceeding  the  powers  of  nature  ; 
any  thing  beyond  the   force   of  distemper,  or  of  imagination 
and  enthusiasm  artfully  worked  up  ;    any  thing  beyond  the 
reach  of  juggle  and  imposture  ;    (which  I  take  not  upon  me 
to  affirm  or  deny;)  in  that  case,  I  see  no  reason  against  con- 
cluding, that  it  is  the  work  of  some  evil  spirit ;   a  sort  of  ma- 
gical operation,  or  other  diabolical  illusion."     Lavington,  p. 
398.     PohehcWs  Ed.     Again  :   "  We  know  that  in  the  latter 
days,  demons  should  be  the  authors  of  many  surprising  things; 
God  permitting  Satan  to  work  upon  the  affections  of  false 
prophets  and  evil  men."     Ibid.  217.     Thus  prelate  and  pres» 
byter  were  equally   vulgar  and  virulent  upon   this   subject  • 
and,  therefore,  ought  to  be  placed  together  at  the  bar  of  pos- 
terity. 

Thus  caricatured  and  denounced,  Whitefield  came  to  Cam- 
buslang ;  a  parish  four  miles  distant  from  Glasgow.  He 
came  by  the  special  invitation  of  Mr.  M'Cullock,  the  minister 
of  the  parish,  to  "  assist  at  the  sacramental  occasion,  with 
several  worthy  ministers  of  the  church  of  Scotland."  Gillies 
says,  "  he  preached  no  less  than  three  times  upon  the  very 
day  of  his  arrival,  to  a  vast  body  of  people,  although  he  had 
preached  that  same  morning  at  Glasgow.  The  last  of  these 
exercises  he  began  at  nine  at  night,  continuing  until  eleven, 
when  he  said  he  bad  observed  such  a  commotion  among  the 
people  as  he  had  never  seen  in  America.  Mr.  M'Cullock  . 
preached  after  him,  till  past  one  in  the  morning ;  and  even 
then  they  could  hardly  persuade  the  people  to  depart.     All 

24* 


282        whitefield'slife    and  times. 

night  in  the  fields  might  be  heard  the  voice  of  praise  and 
prayer." 

Whitefield  said  to  a  friend,  before  going  to  this  sacramen- 
tal service,  "  I  am  persuaded  I  shall  have  more  power — since 
dear  Mr.  Gibb  hath  printed  such  a  bitter  pamphlet."  He  did 
not  miscalculate.  "  On  Saturday,"  he  says,  "  I  preached  to 
above  twenty  thousand  people.  In  my  prayer  the  power  of 
God  came  down  and  was  greatly  felt.  In  my  two  sermons, 
there  was  yet  more  power.  On  Sabbath,  scarce  ever  was 
such  a  sight  seen  in  Scotland.  There  were  undoubtedly  up- 
wards of  twenty  thousand  people.  A  brae,  or  hill,  near  the 
manse  of  Cambuslang,  seemed  formed  by  Providence  for  con- 
taining a  large  congregation.  Two  tents  were  set  up,  and 
the  holy  sacrament  was  administered  in  the  fields.  The  com- 
munion table  was  in  the  field.  Many  ministers  attended  to 
preach  and  assist,  all  enlivening  and  enlivened  by  one  an- 
other. 

"When  I  began  to  serve  a  table,  the  power  of  God  was  felt 
by  numbers  ;  but  the  people  crowded  so  upon  me,  that  I  was 
obliged  to  desist,  and  go  to  preach  at  one  of  the  tents,  whilst 
the  ministers  served  the  rest  of  the  tables.  God  was  with 
them  and  with  his  people.  On  Monday  morning  I  preached 
to  near  as  many  as  before  :  but  such  a  universal  stir  I  never 
saw  before  !  The  motion  fled  as  swift  as  lightning,  from  one 
end  of  the  auditory  to  another.  You  might  have  seen  thou- 
sands bathed  in  tears.  Some  at  the  same  time  wringing  their 
hands,  others  almost  swooning,  and  others  crying  out,  and 
mourning  over  a  pierced  Saviour. 

"But  I  must  not  attempt  to  describe  it.  In  the  afternoon 
the  concern  again  was  very  great.  Much  prayer  had  been 
previously  put  up  to  the  Lord.  All  night,  in  different  compa- 
nies, you  might  have  heard  persons  praying  to  and  praising 
God.  The  children  of  God  came  from  all  quarters.  It  was 
like  the  passover  in  Josiah's  time.  We  are  to  have  another 
sacrament,  in  imitation  of  Hezekiah's  passover,  in  about  two 
or  three  months.  The  Messrs.  Erskines  and  their  adherents 
(would  you  have  thought  it?)  have  appointed  a  public  fast,  to 
bumble  themselves,  among  other  things,  for  my  being  received 
in  Scotland,  and  for  the  delusion,  as  they  term  it,  at  Cambus- 
lang and  other  places  ;  and  all  this,  because^  would  not  con- 
sent to  preach  only  for  them,  till  I  had  light  into,  and  could 
take,  the  solemn  league  and  covenant.  To  what  lengths  may 
prejudice  carry  even  good  men!"     Letters. 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       283 

Before  the  next  sacrament  he  was  suddenly  taken  ill.  The 
efforts  and  the  excitement  overcame  him  lor  a  short  time. 
"My  friends  thought  I  was  going  off:  but  how  did  Jesus  till 
my  heart!  To-day  I  am,  as  they  call  it,  much  better.  In  the 
pulpit,  the  Lord  out  of  weakness  makes  me  wax  strong,  and 
causes  me  to  triumph  more  and  more." — "I  feel  the  power 
of  His  precious,  life-giving,  all-atoning  blood  more  and  more 
every  day.  I  was  happy  when  in  London.  I  am  ten  times 
happier  now.  The  Lord  hath  done  great  things  for  us, 
whereof  we  arc  glad." 

When  the  second  sacrament  came,  the  scenes  of  the  first 
were  renewed.  "  Mr.  Whitefield's  sermons,"  says  Mr.  M'Cul- 
lock,  "were  attended  with  much  power  ;  particularly  on  Sab- 
bath night  about  ten.  A  very  great  but  decent  weeping  and 
mourning  was  observable  throughout  the  auditory.  While 
serving  some  tables,  he  appeared  to  be  so  filled  with  the  love 
of  God,  as  to  be  in  a  kind  of  transport.  This  second  occa- 
sion did,  indeed,  much  excel  the  former,  not  only  in  the  num- 
ber of  ministers  and  people,  but,  which  is  the  main  thing,  in  a 
much  greater  increase  of  the  power  and  special  presence  of 
God.  The  lowest  estimate  of  numbers,  with  which  Mr. 
Whitefield  agrees,  and  he  has  been  used  to  great  multitudes, 
makes  them  upwards  of  thirty  thousand.  The  number  of 
communicants  appears  to  have  been  about  three  thousand. 
Some,  worthy  of  credit,  and  that  had  opportunities  to  know, 
give  it  as  their  opinion,  that  such  a  blessed  frame  fell  upon 
the  people,  that,  had  they  possessed  means  to  obtain  tokens, 
(tickets  of  admission  to  the  sacrament,)  there  would  have 
been  a  thousand  more."  Robe's  Narrative.  "  Some  who  at- 
tended, declared  they  would  not  for  a  world  have  been  absent 
from  this  solemnity.  Others  cried,  'Now  let  thy  servants 
depart  in  peace,  since  our  eyes  have  seen  salvation  here.' 
Others  wishing,  if  it  were  the  will  of  God,  to  die  where  they 
were  attending  God  in  his  ordinances,  without  ever  returning 
to  the  world."     Ibid. 

It  will  be  seen  from  these  extracts  that  Whitefield  did  not 
exaggerate  the  ■power  under  which  he  spoke,  although  he 
states  it  in  strong  terms.  Again,  therefore,  let  him  bear  wit- 
ness. "  Such  a  commotion,  surely,  was  never  heard  of,  espe- 
cially at  eleven  at  night.  For  about  an  hour  and  a  half,  there 
was  such  weeping,  so  many  falling  into  deep  distress,  as  is 
inexpressible.  The  people  seem  to  be  slain  by  scores. 
They  are  carried  off,  and  come  into  the  house,  like  soldiers 


284         whitefield's   life   and   times. 

wounded  and  carried  off  a  field  of  battle.  Their  cries  and 
agonies  are  exceedingly  affecting."  This  occurred  at  the 
first'  sacrament.  Of  the  second  he  says,  "  People  sat  un- 
wearied till  two  in  the  morning.  You  could  scarce  walk  a 
yard,  without  treading  on  some,  either  rejoicing  in  God  for 
mercies  received,  or  crying  out  for  more.  Thousands  and 
thousands  have  I  seen,  before  it  was  possible  to  catch  it  by 
sympathy,  melted  down  under  the  word  and  power  of  God." 
Letters. 

Sir  Henry  Moncrieff  Welwood,  in  his  Life  of  Dr.  Erskine, 
says,  "  From  this  time  (Whitefield's  visit)  the  multitudes 
who  assembled  were  more  numerous  than  they  ever  had  been, 
or  perhaps  than  any  congregation  ever  before  assembled  in 
Scotland.  The  religious  impressions  made  on  the  people 
were  apparently  much  greater,  and  more  general." 

These  were  engrossing  scenes.  They  did  not,  however, 
divert  Whitefield  from  any  of  the  ordinary  duties  of  life  or 
godliness  at  the  time.  Some  spy  did,  indeed,  insinuate  that 
he  gave  but  little  time  to  secret  devotion  at  night,  after  preach- 
ing. In  answer  to  this  charge,  he  said,  "  I  think  not  my 
spirit  in  bondage,  if  through  weakness  of  body,  or  frequency 
of  preaching,  I  cannot  go  to  God  at  my  usual  set  times.  It 
is  not  for  me  to  tell  how  often  I  use  secret  prayer.  If  I  did 
not.use  it, — if  in  one  sense  I  did  not  pray  without  ceasing,  it 
would  be  difficult  for  me  to  keep  up  that  frame  of  mind, 
which  by  the  divine  blessing  I  daily  enjoy.  God  knows  my 
heart :  I  would  do  every  thing  I  could  to  satisfy  all  men,  and 
give  a  reason  of  the  hope  that  is  in  me  with  meekness  and 
fear ;  but  I  cannot  satisfy  all  that  are  waiting  for  an  occasion 
to  find  fault.     Let  my  Master  speak  for  me."     Letters. 

He  redeemed  time  to  write  the  following  letter  to  his 
mother,  also,  from  Cambuslang  : — "  Honoured  mother,  I  re- 
joice to  hear  that  you  have  been  so  long  under  my  roof. 
Blessed  be  God,  that  I  have  a  house  for  my  honoured  mother 
to  come  to  !  You  are  heartily  welcome  to  any  thing  my  house 
affords,  as  long  as  you  please.  If  need  was,  indeed,  these 
hands  should  administer  to  your  necessities.  I  had  rather 
want  myself,  than  you  should  :  I  shall  be  highly  pleased  when 
I  come  to  Bristol,  and  find  you  sitting  in  your  youngest  son's 
house.  Oh  may  I  sit  with  you  in  the  house  not  made  with 
hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens  !  Ere  long  your  doom,  honour- 
ed mother,  will  be  fixed.  You  must  shortly  go  hence  and  be 
no  more.     Your  only  daughter,  I  trust,  is  now  in  the  paradise 


whitefield's  life   and  times.  285 

of  God.  Methinks  I  hear  her  say,  '  Come  up  hither.'  I  am 
sure  Jesus  calls  you  by  his  word.  May  his  Spirit  enable  you 
to  say,  •  Lo,  I  come.' — Oh  that  my  dear  mother  may  be  made 
an  everlasting  monument  of  free  and  sovereign  grace  !  How 
does  my  heart  burn  with  love  and  duty  to  you  ?  Gladly  would 
I  wash  your  aged  feet,  and  lean  on  your  neck,  and  weep,  and 
pray  until  I  could  pray  no  more." 

Besides  this,  and  many  other  private  letters,  he  wrote  fre- 
quently to  his  coadjutors  at  the  Tabernacle,  and  to  his  man- 
agers at  Georgia.  Indeed,  at  this  time,  his  responsibilities 
for  the  orphan-house  pressed  heavily  upon  his  spirits.  "  I 
yet  owe  upwards  of  £250  in  England,  and  have  nothing  to- 
wards it.  How  is  the  world  mistaken  about  my  circumstan- 
ces! Worth  nothing  myself, — embarrassed  for  others, — and 
yet  looked  upon  to  flow  in  riches  !  Our  extremity  is  God's 
opportunity."  So  it  was!  Before  he  left  Scotland  he  could 
say,  "  Blessed  be  God,  I  owe  nothing  now  in  England  on  the 
orphan-house  account.  What  is  due  is  abroad.  At  Edin- 
burgh I  collected  £128;  at  Glasgow  £128;  in  all  about 
£300.  Since  I  have  been  in  England,  we  have  got  near 
£1500.     The  Lord  will  raise  up  what  we  further  need." 

Thus  no  relative  duty  was  neglected,  notwithstanding  the 
multiplicity  of  his  public  engagements.  He  even  found  time 
at  Cambuslang  (just  the  spot  for  the  task  !)  to  write  his  letter, 
entitled,  "A  Vindication  and  Confirmation  of  the  Remarka- 
ble Work  of  God  in  New  England;  being  remarks  upon  a 
late  pamphlet,  entitled,  "The  State  of  Religion  in  New  Eng- 
land, since  the  Rev.  G.  Whitefield's  arrival  there  ;  in  a  Letter 
to  a  Minister  of  the  Church  of  Scotland."  This  pamphlet, 
like  Gibb's  "  Warning,"  was  intended  to  depreciate  both 
Whitefield  and  his  work  in  Scotland.  In  answering  it,  how- 
ever, he  wisely  left  the  work  at  Cambuslang  to  vindicate  itself, 
and  confined  his  explanations  to  New  England  ;  that  the  re- 
vivals there  might  in  nowise  depend  upon  those  in  Scotland 
for  their  justification.  He  also  proved  pretty  fully,  although 
without  bringing  home  the  fact  to  any  one,  that  the  pamphlet 
was  altered  in  Scotland,  to  suit  a  purpose.  And  there  are 
dates  of  Scotch  publications  in  it,  which  could  not  have  been 
known  in  Boston,  when  it  was  written.  Hence  he  asks, 
"  How  could  that  gentleman  (the  author)  see  at  Boston  on 
Mav  24th,  that  Edwards'  Sermon  was  reprinted  in  Scotland  ; 
which  was  not  done  till  June  following  1  I  myself  was  chiefly 
concerned  in  publishing  it." 


286        whitefield's   life   and  times. 

Besides  the  <jn;it  awakening  at  Cambuslang  at  this  time, 
there  was  another  similar  at  Kilsyth,  which  Whitefield  visited 
also.  As  might  be  expected,  both  were  misrepresented  by 
formalists  and  bigots  The  seceders,  Whitefield  says,  "  Tak- 
ing it  for  granted  that  God  had  left  the  Scotch  established 
church  long  ago,  and  that  he  would  not  work  by  the  hands  of 
a  curate  of  the  church  of  England,  condemned  the  whole 
work  as  the  work  of  the  devil  ;  and  kept  a  fast  throughout  all 
Scotland  to  humble  themselves,  because  the  devil  was  come 
down  in  great  wrath  ;  and  to  pray  that  the  Lord  would  rebuke 
the  destroyer — for  that  was  my  title."     Oliphants  Memoirs  Ji 

The  Associate  Presbytery,  in  their  hot  zeal  to  depreciate 
the  conversions,  confounded  them,  like  Lavington,  with  the 
extravagance  of  fanatics  and  impostors,  Camizars,  and  the 
first  quakers.  They  issued  from  Dunfermline  an  Act  of 
Presbytery  ancnt  a  public  fast,  of  which  Mr.  Robe  of  Kilsyth 
says,  "  It  is  the  most  heaven-daring  paper  that  hath  been 
published  by  any  set  of  men  in  Britain  these  three  hundred 
years  past."  This  is  a  bold  charge.  It  was  not,  however, 
advanced  in  a  bad  spirit,  as  the  following  appeals  and  explan- 
ations abundantly  show :  "  My  dear  brethren,  (of  the  Seces- 
sion,) my  heart's  desire  and  prayer  to  God  for  you  is,  that  he 
may  open  your  eyes  to  see  the  many  mistakes  you  labour  un- 
der. Whatever  bitter  names  you  give  us,  and  however  you 
magnify  yourselves  against  us,  we  take  all  patiently ;  and 
there  are  thousands  of  witnesses  that  we  return  you  blessing 
for  cursing.  We  would  lay  our  bodies  as  the  ground,  and  as 
the  street,  for  you  to  go  over,  if  it  could  in  the  least  contii- 
bute  to  remove  your  prejudices,  and  advance  the  kingdom  of 
our  dear  Redeemer." 

This  is  humble  and  earnest  pleading ;  and  so  far  as  the 
word  "  we  "  includes  Mr.  Robe  and  the  leaders  of  the  revival, 
the  pleading  is  honest.  It  must  not,  however,  be  considered 
as  a  specimen  of  the  spirit  of  the  clergy,  in  general,  towards 
the  seceders.  This  being  understood,  I  proceed  with  the 
appeal. — "  You  declare  the  work  of  God  to  be  a  delusion, 
and  the  work  of  the  grand  deceiver.  Now,  my  dear  breth- 
ren, for  whom  I  tremble,  have  you  been  at  due  pains  to  know 
the  nature  and  circumstances  of  this  work  1  "  (Their  Act 
was  issued  whilst  the  work  was  going  on.)  "  Have  you  tak- 
en the  trouble  to  go  to  any  of  these  places,  where  the  Lord 
has  appeared  in  his  glory  and  majesty  ?  Have  you  so  much 
as  written  to  any  of  the  ministers  to  receive  information  of  it? 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         287 

Is  it  not  amazing  rashness,  without  inquiry  or  trial,  to  pro- 
nounce that  a  work  of  the  devil,  which,  for  any  thing  you 
know,  may  be  the  work  of  the  infinitely  good  and  holy 
Spirit  ? » 

"  My  dear  brethren,  can  you  find  in  your  hearts,  after  all 
the  prayers  you  have  put  up  in  public  and  private  for  the  out- 
pouring of  the  Spirit  upon  this  poor  church  and  land,  to  deny 
that  it  is  He,  when  he  is  come  ?— Will  ye  be  so  fearless,  can 
you  be  so  cruel  to  thousands  of  perishing  sinners,  who  begin 
to  fly  to  Jesus  Christ  as  a  cloud  and  as  doves  to  their  win- 
dows ;  as  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  with  lifted  up  eyes  and 
hands,  to  pray  that  there  may  be  a  restraint  upon  the  influ- 
ences of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  that  this  outpouring  of  His  grace 
may  be  withdrawn,  and  not  spread  over  the  length  and  breadth 
of  the  land  1 "     Robe's  Preface. 

It  is  impossible  not  to  ask,  and  that  with  strong  emotion 
too,  after  reading  such  remonstrances, — how  could  such  good 
men  as  the  Erskines  withstand  these  appeals  ?  Now  it  is  not 
easy  to  explain  this  anomoly,  without  seeming  to  palliate  its 
enormity.  It  admits,  however,  of  some  explanation.  The 
Erskines,  on  raising  the  standard  of  Reformation  in  Scotland, 
planted  it  upon  the  mount  of  the  solemn  league  and  covenant ; 
arguing,  that  God  would  carry  on  his  work  only  "  in  a  way  of 
solemn  covenanting,"  as  in  the  days  of  their  "  reforming  fore- 
fathers." R.  Erskine  on  Witnessing  for  God.  With  this 
principle,  W'hitefield  had  no  sympathy  ;  for,  whether  right  or 
wrong,  he  did  not  understand  it.  He  would  not  therefore 
submit  to  it.  The  reformers  also  laid  it  down  as  a  maxim, 
"  that  little  truths  "  (at  such  a  time)  were  "  like  the  little  pin- 
nings  of  a  wall,  as  necessary  as  the  great  stones  ;  that  it  was 
"  a  false  conversion,"  which  "  draws  men  off  from  any  of  the 
ways  of  God  ;  "  that  "  aversion  from,  and  opposition  to,  the 
testimony  of  the  <tme,"  was  opposing  God.  Ralph  Erskine's 
Sermons,  2nd  vol.  folio.  All  this,  as  they  understood  it  White- 
field  rejected;  and  therefore  they  rejected  him,  and  defamed 
his  principles,  in  order  to  defend  their  own.  "  I  shall  show 
you,  in  eight  or  ten  particulars,"  said  Ralph  in  a  sermon, 
"  what  another  God,  and  what  another  Christ,  is  appearing  in 
the  delusive  spirit  of  this  time,  brought  in  by  the  instrumen- 
tality of  the  foreigner  (Whitefield  ;)  of  whom  we  had  some 
grounds  for  very  favourable  thoughts  and  expectations,  till 
we   understood  him   more  fully,   and   found  him  in  several 


288  whitefield's  life  and   times.1 

respects  a.  stranger  to  our  God,  and  setting  up  another  God." 
Sermons,  folio. 

The  chief  ground  of  this  charge,  however  hollow,  is  plausi- 
ble. The  Associate  Presbytery  were  asserting  the  legislative 
supremacy  of  Christ,  as  King  of  Zion.  The  evils  they  were 
contending  against  in  the  kirk,  had  grown  out  of  a  long  dis- 
regard to  this  sacred  principle.  Now  Whitefield  sided  with 
the  ministers  who,  however  good  in  other  respects,  did  not 
"  testify  "  against  the  violations  of  this  principle;  but  against 
the  Secession,  who  avowed  and  advocated  it.  Hence,  he 
was  identified  and  denounced  with  the  enemies  of  church 
reform.  He  had  joined  their  ranks,  and  therefore  he  had  to 
share  in  their  rebuke,  as  well  as  to  suffer  for  mortifying  the 
Presbytery.  It  was  thus  the  Erskines  were  tempted  to  op- 
pose and  impugn  the  revivals  at  Cambuslang  and  Kilsyth. 
These  revivals  checked  the  kind  of  reformation,  which  the 
Erskines  were  chiefly  pleading  for.  They  saw  and  felt  this, 
and  hence  they  said,  "Satan  seems  content  that  Christ  should 
preach,  providing  He  do  not  reign  nor  rule  ;  knowing  that  his 
doctrine  will  not  be  long  uncorrupted,  if  His  government  can 
be  overturned.  Sermons.  "The  power  and  policy  of  hell  is 
at  work,  to  bring  any  attempt  at  reformation  under  contempt." 
Ibid.  Thus  the  seceders  could  not  imagine  that  any  thing 
could  be  another  work  of  God,  which  was  visibly  and  virtually 
hindering  that  work  of  God  which  they  had  so  solemnly 
espoused,  and  which  was  so  much  needed  at  the  time.  It 
became,  therefore,  a  solemn  duty,  as  they  supposed,  to  pour 
contempt  and  obloquy  upon  conversions,  which  were  pouring 
doubt  upon  the  necessity  and  value  of  church  reform.  "That 
must  be  a  wrong  conversion,"  says  Ralph,  "  that  hath  no 
tendency  to  the  public  good,  but  a  tendency  to  oppose  a  pub- 
lic reformation."     Sermons. 

The  depicting  power  also  of  Whitefield's  oratory,  so  unlike 
Scotch  reasonings,  gave  the  Erskines  another  handle  against 
him.  Cornelius  Winter  says  of  him,  "  It  was  not  without 
great  pathos,  you  may  be  sure,  he  treated  upon  the  sufferings 
of  the  Saviour.  He  was  very  ready  at  that  kind  of  painting, 
— which  frequently  answered  the  end  of  real  scenery.  As 
though  Gethsemane  were  within  sight,  he  would  say,  stretch- 
ing out  his  hand, — '  Look  yonder  !  What  is  it  I  see  ?  It  is 
my  agonizing  Lord  ! '  And,  as  though  it  were  no  difficult 
matter  to  catch  the  sound  of  the  Saviour  praying,  he  would 
exclaim,  •  Hark,  hark  ! — do  you  not  hear?  '     You  may  sup- 


whitefield's    life   and    times.       289 

pose  that  as  this  occurred  frequently,  the  efficacy  of  it  was  de- 
stroyed:— but,  no;  though  we  often  knew  what  was  coming, 
it  was  as  new  to  us  as  though  we  had  never  heard  it  before." 
Jay's  Life  of  Winter.  Such  painting  Ralph  Erskine  had 
witnessed,  and  the  effect  of  it  upon  the  people  led  him  to  say, 
"  They  see  a  beautiful  and  glorious  person  presented  to  their 
imagination,  or  to  their  bodily  eye.  What  a  devil,  instead  of 
Christ,  is  this !  "  "  Never,  I  think,  did  Satan  appear  as  an 
angel  of  light,  so  evidently,  as  in  the  delusive  spirit  now 
spreading."     Sermons. 

On  the  other  hand,  Robe  and  some  of  his  brethren  founded 
a  theory  upon  the  vivid  images  thus  produced  ;  and  argued 
that  M  imaginary  ideas  of  Christ  as  man,  belonged  to  saving 
faith;  or  at  least,  were  helpful  to  the  faith  of  His  being  God- 
man."  Fraser.  Ralph  Erskine  replied  to  this  theory,  in  a 
work,  entitled,  "  Faith  no  Fancy,  or  a  Treatise  of  Mental 
Images."  Well  might  Fraser  say  of  this  book,  "  it  is  not 
every  where  level  to  mere  ordinary  capacities."  It  is  not, 
indeed!  It  proves,  however,  that  the  author  was  a  man  of  ex- 
traordinary capacity;  and  could  be  as  much  at  home  amongst 
the  depths  of  metaphysics  as  amongst  the  heights  of  poetry 
or  devotion.  It  is  said,  that  Reid  found  in  this  work  the 
principles  on  which  he  afterwards  built  his  System  of  the  Phi- 
losophy of  the  Human  Mind.  If  he  did,  happily  he  did  not 
draw  the  spirit  of  his  philosophy  from  it.  The  treatise  cer- 
tainly displays  "  an  extraordinary  degree  of  metaphysical 
acuteness : "  but  if  it  prove  any  thing  against  such  mental 
images  as  Whitefield  created,  and  Robe  commended,  it  stul- 
tifies the  author's  "  Gospel  Sonnets  ;  "  for  they  are  "  cham- 
bers of  imagery."  It  is  not  necessary  to  illustrate  this  re- 
tort, to  those  who  have  read  both  the  poetry  and  the  phi- 
losophy of  Ralph  Erskine  ;  and  the  point  of  it  could  not  be 
explained  to  those  who  have  not  read  both.  Suffice  it  to 
say,  that  his  sonnets  refute  his  system,  and  have  survived 
it,  although  they  are  often  as  fantastical  as  they  are  devo- 
tional. 

It  is  amusing  to  read  the  charges  and  disclaimers  of  the 
parties  in  Scotland,  upon  the  subject  of  religious  liberty.  The 
Associate  Presbytery  gravely  charged  the  revivalists  in  the 
kirk  "  with  pleading  for  a  boundless  toleration  and  liberty  of 
conscience:"  no  great  crime,  as  we  now  judge.  Not  so, 
however,  did  the  revivalists  of  that  day  deem  it.     The  impu- 

25 


290         whitefield's   life   and   times. 

tation  roused  then,  however,  the  Scotch  blood  of  even  Ihe 
kind-hearted  and  liberal  Robe.  "  Where  and  when  did  we 
that?"  he  exclaims.  "  I  know  none  of  my  brethren  ever  did 
it :  and  I  am  so  far  conscious  of  my  innocence,  that  1  insist 
upon  your  making  your  charge  good.  If  you  do  not,  as  I  am 
sure  you  cannot,  it  is  no  pleasure  to  me,  that  you  give  reason 
to  the  world  to  reckon  you  slanderers."  How  true  it  is,  that 
nations  are 

"  slowly  wise,  and  meanly  just  j " 

and  that  even  good  men  are  seldom  wiser  than  their  times  ! 
Whitefield's  visits  would  have  been  a  blessing  to  Scotland, 
had  they  led  to  nothing  but  a  canvassing  of  the  rights  of  con- 
science ;  for  he  was  far  ahead  of  both  parties  on  the  subject 
of  religious  liberty. 

Another  handle  against  the  Cambuslang  and  Kilsyth  reviv- 
als, was,  the  physical  effects  of  the  awakening.  "  We  have 
convulsions  instead  of  convictions,"  said  Erskine.  He  might, 
and  ought  to  have  known,  that  this  was  not  true  of  one  in  six 
of  the  converts.  "  They  are  greatly  mistaken  who  imagine 
that  all  those  who  have  been  observably  awakened,  have  come 
under  faintings,  tremblings,  or  other  bodily  distresses.  These 
have  been  by  far  the  fewest  number."  Robe.  Notwithstand- 
ing this  assurance  from  the  principal  witness,  the  Erskines 
went  on  to  confound  the  exceptions  with  the  rule,  in  these 
conversions.  Even  in  1765,  the  editor  of  Ralph's  Sermons 
kept  up  this  misrepresentation,  and  said,  in  a  note,  "  the  sub- 
jects of  the  extraordinary  work  "  were  "  strangely  agitated  by 
strong  convulsions,  fearful  distortions,  foamings,  and  faint- 
ings."  This  is  caricature,  not  history.  In  1742,  the  instan- 
ces of  "  conversion  carried  on  in  a  calm,  silent,  quiet  man- 
ner, for  six  months,  are  the  more  numerous  and  unquestiona- 
ble." Robe.  Whitefield's  visit  occurred  in  this  period. 
Besides,  even  Ralph  Erskine  himself  could  not  always  pre- 
vent, though  he  reproved,  "  clamorous  noise,"  under  his  own 
ministry.  Faith  no  Fancy.  Appendix  to  Preface.  But 
these  effects  have  been  sufficiently  explained  in  the  American 
department  of  this  volume. 

It  would  be  wrong,  after  having  quoted  so  often  from 
Ralph  Erskine's  Sermons,  were  I  not  to  say  even  of  the  ser- 
mons which  are  most  disfigured  with  tirades  against  White- 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        291 

field  and  the  revivals,  that  they  are  full  of  evangelical  truth, 
and  flaming  with  love  to  immortal  souls,  and  as  faithful 
to  the  conscience,  as  any  that  Whitefield  preached  at  Cam- 
buslang.  Indeed,  had  they  been  preached  on  the  brae- 
head,  at  the  great  sacrament  there,  Erskine  would  as  surely 
have  "  slain  his  hundreds,"  as  Whitefield  did  "  his  thou- 
sands." 


292  WHITEFIELDS     LIFE     AND     TIMES 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"WHITEFIELD      ITINERATING. 

On  returning  from  Cambuslang  to  London,  Whitefield 
found,  says  Gillies,  "  the  Tabernacle  enlarged,  and  a  new 
awakening  begun.  As  might  be  expected,  he  was  just  in  the 
right  spirit  for  turning  both  facilities  to  the  best  account. 
Remembering  the  miction  he  enjoyed  in  Scotland,  he  wrote  to 
a  friend  on  arriving  at  London,  "  I  feel  it — I  feel  it  now,  and 
long  to  preach  again  !  "  When  he  did,  he  soon  had  occasion 
to  inform  one  of  his  Cambuslang  companions,  "  Our  glorious 
Emmanuel  blesses  in  like  manner,  now  he  has  brought  me  to 
England." 

This  flourishing  state  of  the  Tabernacle  society,  now 
equally  large  and  harmonious,  enabled  him  to  forget  all  his  old 
grievances,  and  to  renew  his  wonted  spirit  towards  the  Wes- 
leys.  They  were  then  triumphing  gloriously  at  Newcastle, 
and  he  "  heartily  rejoiced"  in  their  success.  He  wrote  to 
one  of  their  friends  thus : — "  I  am  dead  to  parties  now, 
and  freed  from  the  pain  which,  on  that  account,  once  disturbed 
the  peace  of  my  soul.  I  redeem  time  from  sleep  rather  than 
your  letter  should  not  be  answ  ered." 

His  letters  at  this  time  are  full  of  a  holy  impatience  to  get 
out  of  his  "  winter-quarters,"  pleasant  as  they  were,  and  to 
enter  upon  a  w  fresh  campaign."  His  old  friends  in  the  coun- 
try, and  especially  in  Wales,  were  crying  out  for  him,  to  do 
there  what  he  had  done  in  Scotland.  He  could  not,  however, 
gratify  them  at  once.  Persecution  had  begun  to  harrass  some 
of  his  coadjutors  in  Wales  and  Wiltshire  ;  and  therefore  he 
kept  upon  his  vantage  ground  in  London,  to  expose  and 
defeat  it.  Accordingly  he  appealed  thus  to  the  bishop  of 
Bangor,  on  behalf  of  Cennick,  who  had  been  "  shamefully 
used  "  in  that  diocese  :  "  In  Wales  they  have  little  fellow- 
ship meetings,  where  some  well-meaning  people  meet  to- 
gether, simply  to  tell  what  God  hath  done  for  their  souls.  In 
some  of  these  meetings,  I  believe,  Mr.  C.  used  to  tell  his  ex- 


whitefield's  life   and  times.         293 

perience,  and  to  invite  his  companions  to  come  and  be  happy 
in  Jesus  Christ.  He  is  therefore  indicted,  as  holding  a  con- 
venticle ;  and  this,  I  find,  is  the  case  of  one  if  not  two  more. 
Now,  my  lord,  these  persons,  thus  indicted,  as  far  as  I  can 
judge,  are  loyal  subjects  to  his  Majesty,  and  true  friends  to,  and 
attendants  upon,  the  church  of  England  service.  You  will  see 
by  the  letters  (I  send  with  this)  how  unwilling  they  are  to  leave 
her.  And  yet,  if  all  those  acts  against  persons  meeting  to  plot 
against  church  and  state,  were  put  in  execution  against  them, 
what  must  they  do  ]  They  must  be  obliged  to  declare  them- 
selves dissenters.  I  assure  your  lordship  it  is  a  critical time  for 
Wales.  Hundreds,  if  not  thousands,  will  go  in  a  body  from 
the  church,  if  such  proceedings  are  countenanced.  I  lately 
wrote  them  a  letter,  dissuading  them  from  separating  from 
the  church :  and  I  write  thus  freely  to  your  lordship,  because 
I  would  not  have  such  a  fire  kindled  in  or  from  your  lordship's 
diocese."  To  this  letter  the  bishop  returned  a  prompt  and 
polite  answer,  promising  to  hear  both  sides.  What  he  did, 
eventually,  I  know  not.  However,  six  months  afterwards, 
Whitefield  found  some  difficulty,  though  he  carried  his  point, 
in  preventing  a  separation  from  the  church  in  Wales,  as  we 
shall  soon  see. 

The  next  case  of  persecution  which  he  had  to  resist  came 
to  him  from  Wiltshire.  It  was  of  a  kind  not  altogether  cured 
by  another  century  of  "  the  march  of  intellect."  It  was  this  : 
"  The  ministers  of  Bramble,  Segery,  Langley,  and  many 
others,  have  strictly  forbidden  the  overseers  and  churchward- 
ens to  let  any  of  the  C -a  (Cennickites  1)   have  any  thing 

out  of  the  parish  :  and  they  obey  them,  and  tell  the  poor,  if 
they  cannot  stop  them  from  following  any  other  way,  (than 
the  church!)  they  \vi\\  famish  them.  Several  of  the  poor,  hav- 
ing large  families,  have  already  been  denied  any  help.  Some, 
out  of  fear,  denied  they  ever  came,  (to  the  conventicle,)  and 
others  have  been  made  to  promise  they  will  come  no  more  ; 
whilst  the  most  part  come  at  the  loss  of  friends  and  all  they 
have.  When  the  officers  threatened  some  to  take  away  their 
pay,  they  answered,  "  If  you  starve  us  we  will  go  ;  and 
rather  than  forbear,  we  will  live  on  grass  like  kine." 

These  facts,  in  this  form,  Whitefield  submitted  to  the 
bishop  of  Old  Sarum  ;  telling  his  lordship  plainly,  that  if 
C  i  left  the  church,  "  hundreds  would  leave  it  with  him." 
The  effect,  as  usual,  is  not  known.      The  only  thing  certain 

25* 


294         whitefield's   life   and   times. 

is,  that  both  persecution  and  petty  annoyance  went  on  in  most 
quarters. 

Whitefield  having  done  what  he  could  by  letters,  left  London 
to  visit  these  disturbed  districts,  and  attend  the  association  of 
the  Welsh  Methodists.  On  bis  way  he  preached  at  Hampton 
Common,  to  about  "  12,000."  Gillies  does  not  mention  the 
occasion.  It  was  this.  "  A  man  was  hung  in  chains  "  there,  that 
day.  "A  more  miserable  spectacle,"  says  Whitefield,  "  I  have 
not  seen.  I  preached  in  the  morning  to  a  great  auditory,  about 
a  mile  off  from  the  place  of  execution.  I  intended  doing  the 
same  after  the  criminal  was  turned  off;  but  the  weather  was 
very  violent.  Thousands  and  thousands  came  and  staid  to 
hear ;  but  through  misinformation,  kept  on  the  top  of  the  hill 
while  I  preached  at  the  bottom." 

From  this  he  went  to  Dursley,  one  of  the  seats  of  persecu- 
tion, to  dare  the  consequences  ;  but  although  the  mob  had 
taken  down  an  itinerant  on  the  Sabbath  before,  "  no  one  was 
permitted  to  touch  or  molest "  him.  "  The  word  came  (upon 
them)  with  a  most  gloriously  convincing  power."  He  then 
went  to  his  Tump  again  at  Hampton.  "  I  cannot  tell  you,"  he 
says,  "  what  a  solemn  occasion  that  was  !  They  do,  indeed, 
hang  on  me  to  hear  the  word.  It  ran  and  was  glorified. 
Preaching  in  Gloucestershire  now,  is  like  preaching  at  the 
Tabernacle." 

After  preaching  at  Bristol  and  Bath,  he  went  to  Waterford, 
in  South  Wales,  and  there  presided  at  the  first  Association  of 
the  Welsh  Calvinistic  Methodists.  All  who  know  how  much 
Wales  owes  to  the  meetings  of  this  union,  and  how  often 
and  signally  they  have  been  Pentecostal  scenes,  well  ac- 
counting for,  if  not  excusing,  the  shouts  of  "  Gogunnyant 
bendyitti,"  will  learn,  with  pleasure,  that  Whitefield  "  opened 
the  Association."  Gillies.  "  I  opened  with  a  close  and 
solemn  discourse  on  walking  with  God.  Afterwards  we  be- 
took ourselves  to  business,  settling  the  affairs  of  the  societies, 
till  two  o'clock  in  the  morning."  Next  day  they  sat  till  mid- 
night. "  All  acknowledged  God  was  with  them."  Thus  be- 
gan that  which  eventually  immortalized  Bala,  (bach!)  and 
sainted  Charles. 

In  the  spirit  of  this  meeting  he  went  to  Cardiff,  and  again 
made  "  the  greatest  scoffers  quiet."  But  at  Swansea,  the  ef- 
fect was  so  great,  that  he  wrote  off  to  a  friend  after  preaching, 
"  Swansea  is  taken!  I  never  preached  with  a  more  convinc- 
ing power.     Free  grace  for  ever  !  "     From  this  he  went  to 


whitefield's   life  and   times.         295 

Caermarthen,  and  preached  from  "the  tnp  of  the  Cross." 
The  great  sessions  were  then  sitting.  "The  justices,"  he  says, 
"desired  I  would  stay  till  they  rose,  and  they  would  come. 
Accordingly  they  did,  and  many  thousands  more,  and  several 
people  of  quality."  He  was  still  more  pleased,  however, 
with  an  audience  "  of  several  thousand  souls  at  Jefferson," 
because  they  were  "  very  like  the  Kmgswood  colliers  ;  and  at 
Llassivran,  because  he  had,  "as  it  were,  a  Moorfields  con- 
gregation," and  chiefly  because  "Jerusalem  sinners  bring 
most  glory  to  Christ." 

Whilst  thus  in  what  he  calls  "a  new  and  very  unthought-of 
world,"  a  clergyman  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Lam  preached 
against  him  by  name  on  the  Sabbath-day,  much  and  violently. 
This  defeated  its  own  purpose.  To  his  surprise,  on  crossing 
the  ferry  at  Larn,  one  vessel  fired  a  salute,  and  several  hoisted 
their  flags  as  tokens  of  respect  and  welcome. 

During  this  itineracy  in  Wales  he  travelled,  he  says,  "  four 
hundred  miles  in  three  weeks,  spent  three  days  in  attending 
two  associations,  preached  about  forty  times,  visited  about 
thirteen  towns,  and  passed  through  seven  counties."  Lett. 
514.  At  the  close  of  this  tour,  his  first  question  to  himself 
was,  "Where  shall  I  go  next/  "  He  was  at  a  loss  to  deter- 
mine. "  A  visit  to  Yorkshire  would  be  very  agreeable.  Per- 
haps Exeter  and  Cornwall  may  be  the  next  places.  That  is 
dry  ground.  I  love  to  range  in  such  places."  He  determin- 
ed, however,  to  make,  first,  one  more  attack  upon  the  prince 
of  darkness  in  Moorfields.  This  he  did  ;  and  one  of  its  ef- 
fects was,  that  he  was  enabled  to  remit  £25  to  Georgia,  in 
addition  to  £100  sent  out  by  his  brother's  ship  a  little  Defore. 
"  Grace,  grace,"  he  exclaims  in  his  letter  to  Habersham,  "  I 
have  paid  all  that  is  due  in  England,  and  have  sent  you  £25 
by  the  bearer.     God  willing,  I  will  remit  you  more  soon." 

After  a  few  weeks,  he  left  London  again  for  Gloucester- 
shire, to  "  strengthen  the  persecuted,"  or  to  share  the  brunt 
with  Cennick,  of  whom  he  was  very  fond.  He  thus  describes 
him  at  this  time  :  "  He  is  truly  a  great  soul !  one  of  those 
weak  things,  which  God  has  chosen  to  confound  the  strong. 
Such  a  hardy  worker  with  his  hands,  and  hearty  preacher  at 
the  same  time,  I  have  scarce  known.  All  call  him  a  second 
Bunyan."  Having  countenanced  and  consoled  Cennick,  he 
went  to  Bristol.  On  his  arrival  he  learned  that  the  king  had 
fought  and  conquered  in  Germany.  Whitefield  did  not  know 
before,  that  George  had  joined  the  army.     He,  therefore, 


296       whitefield's    life    and    times. 

said,  with  his  characteristic  simplicity  and  loyalty,  "I  had  ob- 
served for  some  time  past,  when  praying  for  him,  that,  whether 
I  would  or  not,  out  came  this  petition, — Lord,  cover  thou  his 
head  in  the  day  of  battle.  While  praying,  I  wondered  why  I 
prayed  so  ;  not  knowing  he  was  gone  to  tight.  This  gave 
me  confidence."  Lett.  124.  He  had  need  of  it  ;  for  his 
own  day  of  battle  was  at  hand.  A  letter  came  to  him  from 
his  itinerant  at  Hampton,  urging  him  to  place  himself  in  the 
breach.  The  appeal,  as  will  be  seen,  was  not  likely  to  be 
lost  on  Whitefield.  "On  Sabbath  morning,"  says  the  writer, 
"  about  twenty  of  the  society  met.  In  the  afternoon,  the  mob 
came  to  my  house,  demanding  me  to  come  down.  I  asked, 
by  what  authority  they  did  so  *.  They  swore  they  would  have 
me.  Then  said  I,  you  shall,  so  they  took  me  to  the  lime-pit, 
(for  skins,)  and  threw  me  in.  But  oh,  what  a  power  of  God 
was  on  my  soul !  I  thought,  with  Stephen,  the  heavens  open- 
ed to  my  sight,  and  the  Lord  Jesus  was  ready  to  receive  me. 
I  believe  my  undaunted  courage  shook  some  of  them.  I  told 
them,  I  should  meet  them  at  the  judgment-seat,  and  then 
their  faces  would  gather  paleness.  They  let  me  out, — and  I 
came  home  and  prayed  with  the  people  who  were  there.  Af- 
ter that,  I  exhorted.  And  when  I  was  concluding,  the  mob 
came  again,  and  took  me  to  a  brook  to  throw  me  in  there. 
They  told  me,  they  would  let  me  go,  if  I  would  forbear 
preaching  for  a  month.  I  would  make  no  such  promise.  So 
forward  I  went.  One  of  them  threw  me  in,  and  I  went  to  the 
bottom,  but  came  up  again,  with  my  hands  clasped  together. 
I  did  not  desire  to  come  out  until  they  fetched  me.  Accord- 
ingly, in  jumped  one  or  two  of  them,  and  took  me  out.  Hut 
then,  one  maliciously  and  cowardly  pushed  me  in  again,  and 
much  cut  and  bruised  one  of  my  legs  against  a  stone.  Some 
of  the  others  were  going  to  throw  him  in  for  doing  so.  I 
came  home  talking  with  them.  Many  seemed  to  repent  of 
what  they  had  done,  and  promised  to  molest  me  no  more. 
The  chief  says,  he  will  in  nowise  touch  me  again.  Many 
advise  us  to  prosecute  them  :  but  if  they  are  quiet,  I  am  con- 
tent, and  can  say  from  the  heart,  'Father,  forgive  them.'  I 
should  he  glad  if  y»u  would  be  here  next  Sunday."  Thomas 
Adams. 

Whitefield  was  soon  on  the  spot !  "  On  Thursday  I  came 
here,  and  expected  to  be  attacked  ;  because  I  had  heard  that 
the  mob  had  threatened  that,  if  ever  I  came  there  again,  they 
would  have  a  piece  of  my  black  gown  to  make  aprons  with. 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        297 

No  sooner  had  I  entered  the  town,  but  I  heard  and  saw  the 
signals  ;  such  as  blowing  of  horns,  and  ringing  of  bells,  for 
gathering  the  mob.  My  soul  was  kept  quite  easy.  I  preach- 
ed on  a  large  glass-plat.  I  finished  just  as  the  ringleader  of 
the  mob  broke  in  upon  us.  One  of  them  called  me  coward. 
I  then  went  to  the  house  and  preached  on  the  stair-case,  to  a 
large  number  of  serious  souls  :  but  the  troubles  in  Israel  soon 
came  in  to  mock  and  mob  us.  But,  feeling  what  I  never  felt 
before,  as  I  have  very  little  natural  courage, — strength  and 
power  from  above, — I  leaped  down-stairs  ;  and  all  ran  away 
before  me.  However,  they  continued  making  a  noise  about 
the  house  till  midnight ;  abusing  the  poor  people  as  they  went 
home,  and,  as  we  hear,  they  broke  one  young  lady's  arm  in 
two  places. 

"Hearing  that  two  or  three  clergymen  were  in  the  town, 
one  of  whom  was  a  justice  of  the  peace,  (query,  of  the  joar?) 
I  went  to  them  :  but,  alas, — they  laid  the  cause  of  all  the 
grievance  at  my  door ;  but,  by  the  help  of  my  God,  I  shall 
persist  in  preaching,  and  in  encouraging  those  to  do  so,  who 
are  moved  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  As  I  came  out  from  the  cler- 
gymen, two  of  the  unhappy  mobbers  were  particularly  inso- 
lent, and  huzzaed  us  out  of  town.  Let  us  '  rejoice  and  be  ex- 
ceeding glad,'  for  now,  I  humbly  hope,  I  begin  to  be  a  disci- 
ple of  Jesus  Christ,  since  to  suffer  for  Him  is  given  unto  me." 

Whitefield  had  to  "  appeal  unto  Caesar  "  for  justice,  in  this 
case.  The  trial  of  the  Hampton  rioters  came  on  very  soon 
after  the  sudden  death  of  his  only  son  ;  and  as  the  preparation 
and  bustle  of  the  affair  diverted  him  somewhat  from  brooding 
upon  his  loss,  I  have  connected  the  report  with  his  domestic 
life. 

About  this  time,  a  motion  was  made  at  one  of  the  associa- 
tions in  Wales,  whilst  Whitefield  was  present,  to  separate 
from  the  established  church.  This  grieved  him  much,  al- 
though it  was  made  only  by  "  a  few  contracted  spirits,"  as  he 
calls  them.  "  By  far  the  greater  part  most  strenuously  op- 
posed it,"  and  agreed  to  go  on  as  usual,  because  they  enjoyed 
such  "  great  liberty  under  the  mild  and  paternal  government 
of  his  Majesty."  Thus,  with  all  his  attachment  to  the  church, 
Whitefield  was  too  honest  to  ascribe  any  of  his  liberty  to  her 
government.  His  definition  of  liberty,  at  this  association,  is 
characteristic  of  himself  and  his  coadjutors  ; — "  the  privilege 
of  ranging  up  and  down,  preaching  repentance  to  those  multi- 
tudes, who  come  neither  to  church  nor  meeting,  but  who  are 


2U8        whitefield's   life   and  times. 

led  from  curiosity  to  follow  us  into  the  fields ;" — a  privilege, 
which  very  few  exercise  now,  however  many  would  contend 
for  it.  The  crushing  of  Sidmouth's  bill  was  not  followed  by 
much  field  preaching. 

In  the  course  of  his  itineracy  this  year,  Whitefield  visited 
Exeter  twice,  and  created  a  stir  which  turned  the  bishop  into 
a.  pamphleteer.  Lavington  had  heard  of  the  "enthusiasm  of 
the  Methodists,"  and  now  he  saw  it.  It  threw  ten  thousand 
of  his  flock  out  to  Southern  Bay,  and  several  of  his  clergy  out 
of  their  stalls  into  the  fields,  to  hear  Whitefield.  Some  of  the 
latter,  however,  u  went  off,"  when  "  the  Lord  made  way  for 
himself  into  the  hearts  of  the  people."  Having  introduced 
this  leaven  into  the  city,  Whitefield  left  it  to  ferment  for  two 
months,  and  then  returned,  determined  to  be  "all  heart  and  all 
humility,  at  the  same  time."  The  result  was,  "  the  common 
people  began  to  feel,  and  even  some  of  the  polite  were  much 
affected,"  although  in  the  fields.  This  will  account  for  La- 
vington's  tirades  against  itinerant  preaching.  The  bishop  had 
the  insolence  to  insinuate,  though  not  the  boldness  to  say, 
that  the  Methodist  preachers,  "as  well  as  St.  Anthony,  were 
attended  with  a  sturdy  set  of  followers,  as  their  guards,  armed 
with  clubs  under  their  clothes,  menacing  and  threatening  such 
as  should  dare  to  speak  lightly  of  their  apostle.  I  have  often 
heard  it  affirmed."  In  the  same  mean  spirit  Lavington  chose 
to  forget,  that  itineracy  had  been  practised  by  other  churches 
than  St.  Anthony's.  Knox  provided  for  it  in  Scotland,  in  his 
"  First  Book  of  Discipline."  Queen  Elizabeth  appointed 
twelve,  to  travel  continually.  By  the  way,  who  pockets  the 
salary  of  the  church  itineracy  now  ;  for  the  work  is  neglect- 
ed 1  Whitefield  knew  both  the  legitimacy  of  his  office  and  the 
need  of  it ;  and  therefore  persisted  in  Exeter,  until  the  bishop 
saw  nearly  "  a  third  part  of  the  city"  attending  on  "  the  word 
preached  "  in  the  fields  ;  and  until  he  himself  could  say,  "  I 
am  here,  as  in  Scotland,  and  New  England.  Praise  to  free 
grace  !  Here  is  work  enough  for  months.  The  weather  is 
favourable  :  range,  therefore,  I  must  and  will !  "   Lett. 

On  the  morning  of  the  last  day  of  his  visit,  he  went  to 
Ottery  to  preach  in  the  market-place  ;  but  just  as  he  named 
his  text,  the  bells  rang.  He  then  went  to  the  fields,  and  the 
people  ran  after  him  "  in  droves."  On  his  way,  one  of  the 
clergymen,  with  the  same  zeal  as  the  bell-ringers,  question- 
ed his  authority,  and  denounced  the  meeting  as  illegal  and  as 
a   riot.     "  I   answered  him  pertinently,  as  I   thought,   and 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         299 

showed  my  authority  by  preaching  from  these  words,  '  GO 
ye  into  all  the  world,  and  preach  the  gospel  to  every  crea- 
ture.'" 

Next  day  he  went  to  Biddeford,  and  was  much  pleased  to 
find  there  a  clergyman,  nearly  eighty  years  of  age,  who  had 
lately  preached  three  times  in  one  day,  and  rode  forty  miles : 
but  says  Whitefield,  "  he  is  not  above  one  year  old  in  the 
school  of  Christ."  "  Dear  Hervey,"  he  says,  "  laid  the 
blessed  foundation,  whilst  a  curate  here."  Such  was  the 
"  Edinburgh-like"  effect  of  a  sermon  in  the  dissenting  cha- 
pel, that  he  wrote  off  to  the  Tabernacle,  "  I  cannot  think  of 
nestling  in  London.  I  am  more  and  more  convinced,  that  I 
should  go  from  place  to  place."  Accordingly,  instead  of 
nestling,  he  flew  into  Cornwall,  and  alighted  once  again  in  a 
church,  at  St.  Gennis.  "  Many,  many  prayers,"  it  seems, 
"  had  been  put  up  by  the  good  rector  and  others,  for  an  out- 
pouring of  God's  blessed  Spirit." — "  They  were  answered. 
Arrows  of  conviction  fled  so  thick  and  fast,  and  such  a  uni- 
versal weeping  prevailed  from  one  end  of  the  congregation  to 

the  other,  that  good  Mr.  J could  not  help  going  from 

seat  to  seat  to  comfort  the  wounded  souls."  After  preaching 
some  time  in  Cornwall  thus,  he  said,  "  But  I  must  away  to 
Biddeford,  just  to  give  Satan  another  stroke,  and  then  return 
the  way  I  came  to  the  great  metropolis." 

It  was  now  winter  ;  "  but  the  Lord,"  he  says,  "  warms  my 
heart."  In  this  spirit  he  came  to  Birmingham.  There  he 
heard  of  the  mobs  which  had  been  stirred  up  at  Wednesbury, 
against  the  Wesleyans,  by  a  sermon  in  the  church  ;  of  which 
Wesley  says,  "  I  never  heard  so  wicked  a  sermon,  delivered 
with  such  bitterness  of  voice  and  manner."  Its  effect,  as  is 
well  known,  was  almost  murder.  Ill  as  Adams  was  treated 
at  Hampton,  it  was  mercifully,  compared  with  the  fiend-like 
assault  upon  Wesley.  Whitefield  went  to  Wednesbury,  and 
was  well  received.  "  I  cannot  tell  you,"  he  says,  "  what  a 
sweet  melting  time  there  was.  Many  were  in  tears."  Next 
day,  however,  whilst  preaching  at  Mare  Green,  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood, "  several  clods  were  thrown,"  one  of  which  fell 
on  his  head,  and  another  struck  his  fingers,  whilst  he  was 
praying.  He  then  returned  to  Birmingham,  and  preached  to 
many  thousands  on  a  common,  with  great  effect.  When  he 
went  on  the  ground,  a  regiment  of  soldiers  were  exercising ; 
but  the  officers,  when  they  saw  him,  dismissed  them,  and  pro- 
mised that  there  should  be  no  disturbance. 


300        whitefield's    life    and    times. 

Whitcfield  closed  this  itineracy  by  a  visit  to  his  old  friend 
Mr.  Williams  of  Kidderminster.  In  his  house,  he  recognized 
"  a  sweet  savour,"  amongst  the  visitors,  "  of  good  Baxter's 
doctrine,  works,  and  discipline,  remaining  until  this  day." 
That  savour  he  did  not  rind  in  Baxter's  church ;  its  bells  were 
rung  whilst  he  was  preaching ;  and  that  by  men  who  "  had 
promised  not  to  do  so." 

On  his  return  to  London,  Whitefield  had  to  sustain  the 
loss  of  his  child,  to  prosecute  the  Hampton  rioters,  and  to  an- 
swer some  pamphlets,  as  well  as  to  prepare  for  revisiting 
America.  In  June,  1744,  he  engaged  his  passage  from  Ports- 
mouth ;  but  the  captain  of  the  vessel  refused  to  let  him  on 
board,  when  the  time  to  sail  came,  lest  he  should  "  spoil 
the  sailors."  lie  had,  therefore,  to  go  to  Plymouth  for  a 
vessel. 

Whilst  at  Plymouth,  he  had  a  very  narrow  escape  from  be- 
ing murdered.  On  the  night  of  his  arrival,  a  bear  and  drum 
were  paraded  on  the  ground  where  he  was  expected  to  preach. 
He  did  not,  therefore,  preach  that  night.  Next  night  he  did; 
and  after  returning  to  his  inn,  some  ruffians,  under  the  pre- 
tence of  a  "  hue-and-cry"  warrant,  broke  into  his  room,  and 
insulted  him.  This  led  him  to  remove  to  private  lodgings. 
Again  he  preached  and  visited  the  French  prisoners,  without 
any  thing  happening  to  awaken  fear  or  suspicion.  That 
night,  however,  his  landlady  informed  him,  that "  a  well- 
dressed  gentleman  desired  to  speak  with  him." — "  Imagin- 
ing," he  says,  "  that  it  was  some  Nicodemite,  I  desired  him 
to  be  brought  up.  He  came,  and  sat  down  by  my  bed- 
side ;  told  me  he  was  a  lieutenant  of  a  man  of  war  ;  congrat- 
ulated me  on  the  success  of  my  ministry,  and  expressed  him- 
self much  concerned  from  being  detained  from  hearing  me. 
He  then  asked  me  if  I  knew  him  1  I  answered,  no.  He  re- 
plied, his  name  was  Cadogan.  I  rejoined,  I  had  seen  one 
Mr.  Cadogan,  formerly  an  officer  at  Georgia,  about  a  fortnight 
ago  at  Bristol.  Upon  this,  he  immediately  rose  up,  uttering 
the  most  abusive  language  ;  calling  me  dog,  rogue,  villain  ; 
and  beat  me  most  unmercifully  with  his  gold-headed  cane. 
As  you  know  I  have  not  much  natural  courage,  guess  how 
surprised  I  was !  Being  apprehensive  that  he  intended  to 
shoot  or  stab  me,  I  underwent  all  the  fears  of  a  sudden,  vio- 
lent death. 

"  It  providentially  happened,  that  my  hostess  and  her 
daughter,  hearing  me  cry   '  murder,'  rushed  into  the  room, 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        301 

and  seized  him  by  the  collar.  However,  he  immediately  dis- 
engaged himself  from  them,  and  repeated  his  blows  upon  me. 
The  cry  of  '  murder '  was  repeated  ;  which  putting  him  in 
some  terror,  he  made  towards  the  chamber  door,  from  whence 
the  good  woman  pushed  him  down  stairs. 

"  At  the  bottom,  a  second  cried  out,  '  Take  courage,  I  am 
ready  to  help  you.'  Accordingly,  whilst  the  other  was  escap- 
ing, he  rushed  up  ;  and,  finding  one  of  the  women  coming 
down,  he  took  her  by  the  heels,  and  threw  her  upon  the  stairs, 
by  which  her  back  was  almost  broken.  By  this  time,  the 
neighbourhood  was  alarmed.  Unwilling  to  add  to  it,  I  desir- 
ed the  doors  to  be  shut,  and  retired  to  rest." 

This  mysterious  affair  Whitefleld  did  not  prosecute  for,  al- 
though much  urged  to  do  so.  "  I  am  better  employed,"  he 
says,  "  being  greatly  blessed  in  preaching  the  gospel.  I 
was  well  paid  for  what  I  had  suffered  ;  curiosity  having  led, 
perhaps,  two  thousand  more  than  ordinary  to  see  and  hear  a 
man  that  had  like  to  have  been  murdered  in  his  bed.  Thus 
all  things  work  for  the  furtherance  of  the  gospel. 

'  Thus  Satan  thwarts,  and  men  object, 
And  yet  the  thing  they  thwart  effect.'" 

The  only  explanation  of  this  outrage  that  I  know  of,  only 
rendered  it  more  mysterious.  "  I  had,"  he  says,  "  some  par- 
ticular information  about  the  late  odd  adventure.  It  seems, 
four  gentlemen  came  to  the  house  of  one  of  my  friends,  kind- 
ly inquiring  for  me  ;  and  desiring  to  know  where  I  lodged, 
that  they  might  come  and  pay  their  respects.  He  directed 
them.     Some  time  afterwards,  I  received  a  letter,  informing 

me  that  the  writer  was  a  nephew  to  Mr.  S ,  an  eminent 

attorney  at  New- York  ;  that  he  had  the  pleasure  of  supping 
with  me  at  his  uncle's  house;  and  desired  my  company  to  sup 
with  him  and  a  few  more  friends  at  a  tavern.  I  sent  him  word, 
that  it  was  not  customary  for  me  to  sup  out  at  taverns  ;  but 
should  be  glad  of  his  company,  out  of  respect  to  his  uncle,  to 
eat  a  morsel  with  him  at  my  lodgings.  He  came.  We  sup- 
ped ;  and  I  observed  that  he  looked  around  him  frequently, 
and  seemed  very  absent.  But  having  no  suspicion,  I  con- 
tinued in  conversation  with  him  and  my  other  friends,  until 
we  parted. 

"  This,  I  now  find,  was  to  have  been  the  assassin.  On 
being  interrogated  by  his  companions,  on  his  return  to  the 
tavern,  about  what  he  had  done,  he  answered,  that  being  so 

26 


302        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

civilly  used  he  had  not  the  heart  to  touch  me.  Upon  which, 
as  I  am  informed,  the  person  who  assaulted  me  laid  a  wager 
of  ten  guineas  that  he  would  do  my  business  for  me.  Some 
say,  that  they  took  his  sioord  from  him  ; — which  I  suppose 
they  did,  for  I  saw  and  felt  only  the  weight  of  his  cane." 

The  deserved  odium  of  this  dastardly  attack  must  be 
equally  divided  between  England  and  America.  That  the 
volunteer  assassin  was  an  American,  there  can  be  no  more 
doubt,  thad  that  the  bravo  was  an  Englishman.  Whitefield 
could  not  have  mistaken  the  former.  Indeed,  it  was  "  out  of 
respect "  to  his  uncle  in  New-York,  that  he  welcomed  the 
nephew  without  hesitation. 

He  availed  himself  adroitly  of  the  notoriety  thus  given  to 
him  in  Plymouth,  to  divide  public  attention  with  the  bishop  of 
the  diocese,  who  was  there  at  the  time  confirming.  "  Could 
you  think  it,"  he  says,  "  I  have  been  preaching  a  confirmation 
sermon  !  Do  you  ask  me  where  ?  In  a  quaker's  field.  As  I 
saw  thousands  flocked  to  the  church  to  have  the  bishop's  hand 
imposed  upon  them,  I  thought  it  not  improper  to  let  them  have 
a  word  of  exhortation,  suitable  to  the  occasion. 

This  confirmation  sermon  produced  one  good  effect,  equal 
at  least  to  any  that  resulted  from  the  confirmation  itself.  The 
late  Rev.  Henry  Tanner,  then  a  young  man,  and  a  ship- 
builder, had  just  come  to  Plymouth,  in  search  of  employment 
at  the  dock.  Whitefield's  powerful  voice  from  the  field  ar- 
rested his  attention,  and  that  of  his  fellow-workmen.  They 
deemed  him  mad,  and  determined  to  capsize  him  from  his 
block.  Nor  was  this  all  :  they  went,  not  only  to  throw  him 
down  from  his  stand,  but  with  their  pockets  full  of  stones,  "to 
injure  the  mad  parson."     Dr.  Hawker's  Life  of  Tanner. 

Tanner's  resolution  failed  him  when  he  saw  Whitefield  with 
open  arms  and  gushing  tears,  entreating  "poor  lost  sinners" 
to  come  to  Christ.  He  went  home  much  impressed,  and  re- 
solved to  hear  the  preacher  again  next  evening.  He  did.  The 
text  was,  "Beginning  at  Jerusalem."  Whitefield  "  depicted 
the  cruel  murder  of  the  Lord  of  life  "  there.  Then,  turning 
to  the  spot  where  Tanner  stood,  he  said,  "You  are  reflecting 
on  the  cruelty  of  these  inhuman  butchers,  who  imbrued  their 
hands  in  innocent  blood."  At  this  moment  his  eye  fell  upon 
Tanner,  and  his  lips  said,  "  Thou  art  the  man."  The  convicted 
sinner  was  forced  to  cry,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me."  White- 
field  saw  the  effect,  and  met  the  emotion  with  a  burst  of  ten- 
derness which  cheered   the  penitent.     Another  sermon,  on 


whitefield's   life   and  times.         303 

Jacob's  vision  of  the  Bethel  ladder,  led  Tanner  up  to  the 
Lamb  slain  in  the  midst  of  the  throne,  and  thus  gave  him  both 
joy  and  peace  in  believing. 

The  advances  he  made,  from  this  time,  in  religious  know- 
ledge and  experience,  were  great  and  rapid.  They  eventually 
encouraged  and  enabled  him  to  preach  the  everlasting  gospel 
to  others.  This  he  did  with  such  success,  that  even  Dr. 
Hawker  (that  strange  compound  of  spirituality  and  absurdity,) 
acknowledges  that  Tanner  seldom  preached  "one  sermon  in 
vain."  Tanner's  frequent  prayer  was,  that  he  might  die  in  his 
Master's  work.  His  petition  was  granted.  He  broke  down 
in  the  pulpit,  before  he  could  finish  his  sermon ;  and  soon  fell 
asleep  in  Jesus.     Life  by  Hawker. 

This  was  not  the  only  good  effect  of  Whitefield's  detention 
at  Plymouth.  Some  of  the  very  persons  who  opposed  him  at 
first,  offered  him  "  a  piece  of  ground,  surrounded  with  walls, 
for  a  society-house."  No  wonder  :  for  he  came  from  the 
docks  every  evening,  "  with  great  companies,  singing  and 
praising  God."  Letters.  As  he  was  now  about  to  leave  for 
America,  he  communicated  the  glad  tidings  of  this  new  open- 
ing to  Cennick  ;  and  wrote  to  those  who  had  most  influence 
over  him — "  Brother  Cennick  mtist  come  to  these  parts  soon." 
One  thing  he  wrote  for  his  encouragement  was,  that  the  ferry- 
men, who  were  like  Levi  at  the  receipt  of  custom,  would  take 
nothing  of  the  multitude  who  came  to  hear  him  preach.  They 
said,  "  God  forbid  that  we  should  sell  the  word  of  God." 
Thus  preserved  and  blessed,  he  embarked  for  America  with 
two  New  England  friends. 


304       whitefield's   life    and    times. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

WHITEFIELD      ITINERATING      IN      AMERICA. 

1744. 

"  In  the  beginning  of  August,  1744,  Whitefield  embarked, 
though  in  a  poor  state  of  health  ;  and  after  a  tedious  passage 
of  eleven  weeks,  arrived  at  York."  Gillies.  He  sailed 
from  Plymouth,  with  nearly  a  hundred  and  fifty  ships,  under 
several  convoys.  It  was,  however,  "  full  six  weeks"  before 
they  reached  the  Western  Islands.  This  was  owing  to  the 
want  of  wind.  When  the  wind  did  spring  up,  one  of  the  ves- 
sels, which  missed  stays,  drove  right  upon  his  ship  ;  striking 
her  mainsail  into  the  bowsprit.  Whitefield's  vessel,  being 
large,  sustained  little  damage  ;  but  the  other  received  a  blow, 
which  disabled  and  well  nigh  sunk  her.  The  cries  and 
groans  of  her  crew,    he  says,  "  were  awful !  " 

He  had  been  singing  a  hymn  on  deck  when  the  concussion 
took  place.  This  fact,  with  the  news  of  the  concussion,  was 
communicated  to  the  convoy.  It  drew  out,  he  says,  the  re- 
mark, "  This  is  your  praying  and  be  damned  !  with  many 
sayings  of  the  like  nature."  He  adds,  "this,  I  must  own, 
shocked  me  more  than  the  striking  of  the  ship."  It  did 
not,  however,  stop  nor  intimidate  him.  "  I  called  my  friends 
together,  and  broke  out  into  these  words  in  prayer : — God  of 
the  sea  and  God  of  the  dry  land,  this  is  a  night  of  rebuke  and 
blasphemy  !  Show  thyself,  O  God,  and  take  us  under  thine 
own  immediate  protection.  Be  thou  our  Convoy,  and  make 
a  difference  between  those  who  fear  thee,  and  those  that  fear 
thee  not." 

Providence  soon  made  a  difference  !  Next  day,  a  "violent 
Euroclydon  arose,"  which  "  battered  and  sent  away  our  con- 
voy, so  that  we  saw  him  no  more  all  the  voyage."  Letters. 
Whitefield,  at  first,  thought  this  '•  no  loss  :  "  but  when  two 
strange  sail  appeared  in  the  distance,  and  preparation  was 
made  for  action  by  mounting  guns,  slinging  hammocks  on  the 
sides  of  the  ship,  and  encircling  the  masts  with  chains,  he 


whitefield's  life   and  times.         305 

(being  "  naturally  a  coward,"  as  he  says)  found  it  "  formida- 
ble to  have  no  convoy.  The  vessels  were,  however,  only  part 
of  their  own  fleet.  This  was  a  pleasant  discovery  to  more 
than  the  skulking  chaplain  in  the  holes  of  the  ship.  ••  The 
captain,  on  clearing  the  cabin,  said,  '  After  all,  this  is  the  best 
fighting.'  You  may  be  sure  I  concurred,  praying  that  all  our 
conflicts  with  spiritual  enemies  might  at  last  terminate  in  a 
thorough  cleansing  and  an  eternal  purification  of  the  defiled 
cabin  of  our  hearts."     Letters. 

No  other  accident  occurred  during  the  voyage.  Its  tedi- 
ousness  overcame  his  patience,  however,  when  he  saw  the 
port.  In  order  to  land  a  few  hours  sooner  than  the  vessel,  he 
went  on  board  a  smack  in  the  bay;  but  darkness  coming  on 
she  missed  her  course  and  was  tossed  about  all  night.  Un- 
fortunately, too,  she  had  no  provisions,  and  he  was  so 
hungry  that  he  "  could  have  gnawed  the  very  boards."  Be- 
sides this  he  was  suffering  from  "nervous  cholic."  Altogether 
he  was  thoroughly  mortified,  until  a  man  lying  at  his  elbow  in 
the  cabin,  began  to  talk  of  "  one  Mr.  Whitefield,  for  whose 
arrival  the  neto  lights  in  New  England  "  were  watching  and 
praying.  "This,"  he  says,  "made  me  take  courage.  I  con- 
tinued undiscovered  ;  and  in  a  few  hours,  in  answer,  I  trust, 
to  new-light  prayers,  we  arrived  safe." 

He  was  received  at  York  by  a  physician,  once  a  notorious 
deist,  who  had  been  converted  under  his  ministry.  This  was 
a  signal  providence;  for  in  about  half  an  hour  after  he  entered 
the  doctor's  house,  he  became  racked  with  cholic,  and  con- 
vulsed from  the  "waist  to  the  toes."  A  "total  convulsion" 
was  apprehended  by  the  physician.  He  himself  dreaded 
delirium,  and  implored  his  weeping  wife  and  friends  not  to  be 
"surprised  if  he  uttered  any  thing  wrong."  Both  fears,  how- 
ever, were  soon  allayed  :  but  he  was  brought  so  low  that  he 
could  not  "bear  the  sound  of  the  tread  of  a  foot,  or  the  voice 
of  friends."  Four  days  elapsed  before  nature  could  be  re- 
lieved ;  and  for  weeks  he  had  to  be  carried  like  a  child. 
The  fact  is,  he  had  eaten  "eagerly  "  of  some  potatoes,  during 
his  gnawing  hunger  on  board  the  smack,  and  they  had  re- 
mained on  the  stomach  undigested.  They  were  not  even 
"  discoloured,"  when  they  were  removed. 

When  Whitefield  recovered,  the  excellent  though  eccentric 
Moody,  the  minister  of  York,  called  upon  him,  and  accosted 
him  thus :  "  Sir,  you  are  first  welcome  to  America  ;  secondr 
ly,  to  New  England  ;  thirdlv,  to  all  faithful  ministers  in  New 

26* 


306  whitefield's    life    and    times. 

England  ;  fourthly,  to  all  the  good  people  in  New  England ; 
fifthly,  to  all  the  good  people  of  York  ;  and  sixthly  and  lastly, 
to  me,  dear  sir,  less  than  the  least  of  all."  This  welcome  was 
followed  by  an  urgent  request  for  a  sermon.  Whitefield  he- 
sitated for  a  time  ;  but  "good  old  Mr.  Moody"  did  not  give 
him  the  benefit  of  his  own  favourite  maxim,  "When  you  know 
not  what  to  do, — you  must  not  do  you  know  not  what."  This, 
however,  he  did.  He  preached,  and  immediately  after  went 
over  the  ferry  to  Portsmouth.  As  n.ight  be  expected,  he 
caught  cold,  and  was  again  brought  to  the  gates  of  death. 
Three  physicians  attended  him  during  the  night. 

With  his  usual  simplicity,  he  says,  "  My  pains  returned ; 
but  what  gave  me  most  concern  was,  that  notice  had  been 
given  of  my  being  to  preach  next  evening.  I  felt  a  divine  life 
distinct  from  my  animal  life,  which  made  me,  as  it  were,  laugh 
at  my  pains,  though  every  one  thought  I  was  '  taken  with 
death.'  My  dear  York  physician  was  then  about  to  administer 
a  medicine.  I,  on  a  sudden,  cried  out,  Doctor,  my  pains  are 
suspended  ;  by  the  help  of  God,  I'll  go  and  preach, — and  then 
come  home  and  die  !  With  some  difficulty  I  reached  the  pul- 
pit. All  looked  quite  surprised,  as  though  they  saw  one  risen 
from  the  dead.  Indeed,  I  was  as  pale  as  death,  and  told 
them  they  must  look  upon  me  as  a  dying  man,  come  to  bear 
my  dying  testimony  to  the  truths  I  had  formerly  preached  to 
them.  All  seemed  melted,  and  were  drowned  in  tears.  The 
cry  after  me,  when  I  left  the  pulpit,  was  like  the  cry  of  sincere 
mourners  when  attending  the  funeral  of  a  dear  departed  friend. 
Upon  my  coming  home,  I  was  laid  on  a  bed  upon  the  ground, 
near  the  fire,  and  I  heard  them  say,  '■lie  is  gone  /'  But  God 
was  pleased  to  order  it  otherwise.     I  gradually  recovered." 

Gillies  has  added  to  this  account  an  interesting  anecdote, 
from  some  of  Whitefield's  papers.  "A  poor  negro  woman 
insisted  upon  seeing  the  invalid,  when  he  began  to  recover. 
She  came  in,  and  sat  down  on  the  ground,  and  looked  earnest- 
ly in  his  face.  She  then  said,  in  broken  accents,  'Massa, 
you  just  go  to  heaven's  gate.  But  Jesus  Christ  said,  Get 
you  down,  get  you  down,  you  must  not  come  here  yet :  go 
first,  and  call  some  more  poor  negroes.'  I  prayed  to  the 
Lord  that,  if  I  was  to  live,  this  might  be  the  event."     Gillies. 

He  thought  himself  "  dying  indeed,"  when  he  w  as  laid 
near  the  fire,  after  preaching.  But  when  he  recollected  "  the 
life  and  power  which  spread  all  around,"  whilst  "  expecting 
to  stretch  into  eternity,"  he  said,  "  I  thought  it  was  worth  dy- 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       307 

ing  for  a  thousand  times  !"  In  three  weeks  after,  he  was  able 
to  go  to  Boston,  though  still  very  weak.  His  arrival  was  an- 
nounced thus  in  Prince's  Christian  History:  "The  Rev. 
George  Whitefield  was  so  far  revived,  as  to  be  able  to  set  out 
from  Portsmouth  to  Boston,  whither  he  came  in  a  very  feeble 
state,  the  Monday  evening  after :  since  which  he  has  been 
able  to  preach  in  several  of  our  largest  houses  of  public  wor- 
ship, with  great  and  growing  success.  He  comes  with  the 
same  extraordinary  spirit  of  meekness,  sweetness,  and  uni- 
versal benevolence,  as  before.  In  opposition  to  the  spirit  of 
separation  and  bigotry,  he  is  still  for  holding  communion  with 
all  Protestant  churches.  In  opposition  to  enthusiasm,  he 
preaches  a  close  adherence  to  the  Scriptures,  and  the  neces- 
sity of  trying  all  impressions  by  them,  and  of  rejecting  as  de- 
lusion whatever  is  not  agreeable  to  them.  In  opposition  to 
antinomianism,  he  preaches  up  all  kinds  of  relative  and  reli- 
gious duties — though  to  be  performed  in  the  strength  of 
Christ ;  and  in  short,  the  doctrines  of  the  church  of  England, 
and  of  the  first  fathers  of  this  country.  As  before,  he  applies 
himself  to  the  understanding  of  his  hearers,  and  then  to  their 
affections.  And  the  more  he  preaches,  the  more  he  con- 
vinces people  of  their  mistakes  about  him,  and  increases  their 
satisfaction."     Prince. 

This  defence  was  not  needless  at  the  time.  Both  calum- 
ny and  caricature  had  been  busy  at  Boston  against  White- 
field.  Harvard  College,  and  half-penny  squibs,  called  "tes- 
timonies," united  against  him.  A  good  old  puritan  of  the 
city  said  of  the  testimonies,  "  they  do  not  weigh  much:"  this 
was  equally  true  of  the  more  learned  charges  from  the  college. 
Accordingly  neither  weighed  with  the  public.  They  soon  of- 
fered to  build  for  Whitefield  "  the  largest  place  of  worship 
that  was  ever  seen  in  America."  This  he  declined.  He  did 
not  decline,  however,  when  the  people  voted  him  into  the  pul- 
pits of  their  "  shy  pastors."  This  led  him  to  say,  in  refer- 
ence to  the  old  joke,  "  that  the  lord  brethren  of  Ntiv  England 
could  tyrannize  as  well  as  the  lord  bishops  of  Old  England." 
"  Well  is  it  at  present,  that  the  people  are  lord  brethren  ;  for 
they  have  passed  votes  of  invitation  to  me  to  preach  in  the 
pulpits  ! "  Had  he  been  himself  at  the  time,  however,  he 
would  have  gone  into  the  fields. 

The  coolness  and  shyness  of  many  ministers  did  not  sur- 
prise him  now.  When  he  was  the  guest  of  Governor  Bel- 
cher, on  his  former  visit  to  Boston,  he  quite  understood  the 


308       whitefield' s    life    and    times. 

"  civil  nod  "  of  the  clergy,  at  table  ;  and  said,  at  the  time, 
"  many  who  are  now  extremely  civil,  will  turn  out  my  open 
and  avowed  enemies."  They  did  ;  and  he  said  now,  "  I  have 
been  no  false  prophet."  Still  he  felt  the  difference,  when 
the  clergy,  "freed  from  restraints,  appeared  inpuris  nalurali- 
bus."  Letters.  He  found  that  "  the  good  old  man  (Moody) 
judged  too  much  by  his  own  honest  feelings,"  when  he  wel- 
comed him  "  to  all  the  faithful  ministers  of  New  England." 
But  Whitefield  soon  forgot  all  who  forgot  him  at  Boston, 
when  the  high  sheriff,  who  was  once  the  leader  of  the  perse- 
cution, began  to  hear  him,  and  especially  when  his  "  spiritual 
levees,"  for  the  awakened,  became  crowded.  At  one  of  them, 
a  very  singular  Bostonian  visited  him  ; — a  man  of  ready  wit 
and  racy  humour,  who  delighted  in  preaching  over  a  bottle  to 
his  boon  companions.  He  had  gone  to  hear  Whitefield,  in 
order  to  get  up  a  new  "  tavern  harangue  :  "  but  when  he  had 
caught  enough  of  the  sermon  for  his  purpose,  and  thus  want- 
ed to  quit  the  church  for  the  inn,  "  he  found  his  endeavours 
to  get  out  fruitless,  he  was  so  pent  up."  Whilst  thus  fixed, 
and  waiting  for  "  fresh  matter  of  ridicule,"  he  was  arrested  by 
the  gospel.  That  night  he  went  to  Prince,  full  of  horror,  and 
longing  to  beg  pardon  of  Whitefield.  Prince  encouraged  him 
to  visit  the  preacher.  Whitefield  says  of  him,  "  by  the  pale- 
ness, pensiveness,  and  horror  of  his  countenance,  I  guessed 
he  was  the  man  of  whom  1  had  been  apprized.  '  Sir,  can  you 
forgive  me?'  he  cried,  in  a  low  but  plaintive  voice.  I  smiled, 
and  said,  'Yes,  sir,  very  readily.'  '  Indeed,  you  cannot,' he 
said,  when  I  tell  you  all.'  I  then  asked  him  to  sit  down  ;  and 
judging  that  he  had  sufficiently  felt  the  lash  of  the  law,  I 
preached  the  gospel  unto  him."  This,  with  other  remarkable 
conversions,  gave  increased  energy  and  influence  to  his 
preaching  in  Boston.  "  My  bodily  strength,"  he  says,  "  is 
recovered,  and  my  soul  more  than  ever  in  love  with  a  crucified 
Jesus !  " 

At  this  time,  the  Cape  Breton  expedition  was  committed  to 
his  friend  Colonel  Pepperell  ;  the  first  and  last  native  of  New 
England  created  a  baronet  of  Great  Britain.  For  his  success 
at  the  siege  of  Louisburgh,  which  led  to  this  unusual  honour, 
Pepperell  was  not  a  little  indebted  to  Whitefield.  He  gave 
him  a  rallying  motto  for  his  flag,  and  preached  to  his  soldiers 
before  they  embarked.  It  is  painful  to  recollect  this  patron- 
age of  war  by  a  minister  of  peace  !  He  himself  did  not  easily 
get  over  his  scruples  of  conscience.     His  friend  Sherbourne, 


whitefield's   life   and   times.         309 

the  commissary  of  the  war,  had  to  tell  him,  that  if  he  refused 
men  would  not  enlist.  This  made  him  "  sleep  and  pray"  on 
the  subject.  It  was,  however,  Lady  Pepperell  who  vanquish- 
ed him,  by  assuring  him,  that  "God  enabled  her  to  give  up 
the  general  to  the  expedition,  for  His  glory,  and  the  good  of 
the  country."  He  preached  on  the  surrender  of  Louisburgh. 
So  also  did  Mr.  Prince.  The  latter  published  his  sermon. 
Alas,  both  have  had  too  many  imitators  ! 

Whitefield  was  now  himself  again,  and  began  to  move 
southward,  hunting  for  souls.  On  his  way  to  Philadelphia,  he 
had  the  privilege  (to  him  unspeakable  !)  of  preaching  by  an 
interpreter  "  to  some  converted  Indians,  and  of  seeing  nearly 
fifty  young  ones  in  one  school,  learning  the  Assembly's  Ca- 
techism." This  was  at  one  of  Brainerd's  stations  ;  and  thus 
doubly  interesting  to  him. 

His  reception  at  Philadelphia  was  very  flattering.  The 
place  erected  for  him  on  his  former  visit  was  flourishing,  and 
its  managers  offered  him  £800  a  year,  with  liberty  to  travel 
six  months  a  year  wherever  he  chose,  if  he  would  become 
their  pastor.  This  pleased  him,  although  he  declined  the  offer 
at  once.  He  was  more  pleased,  however,  to  learn,  that  after 
his  former  visit  there  were  so  many  under  "  soul-sickness," 
that  even  Gilbert  Tennent's  feet  were  blistered  with  walking 
from  place  to  place  to  see  them. 

When  he  went  to  Virginia,  he  was  agreeably  surprised  to 
find  "  a  fire  kindled  "  there,  by  a  volume  of  his  sermons, 
which  had  been  brought  from  Glasgow  to  Hanover.  "  It  fell 
into  the  hands  of  Samuel  Morris,"  says  Whitefield  :  "  he  read 
and  found  benefit.  He  then  read  them  to  others.  They 
were  awakened  and  convinced.  Other  labourers  were  sent 
for,  and  many,  both  whites  and  negroes,  were  converted  to 
the  Lord."  Gillies.  Whitefield's  version  of  this  event  is 
too  brief.  The  following  version  is  from  the  lips  of  Morris 
himself,  in  1751.  It  was  taken  down  by  Mr.  Davies  of  Han- 
over, his  minister.  "  In  1740,  Whitefield  preached  at  Wil- 
liamsburgh ;  but,  we  being  sixty  miles  distant,  he  left  the 
colony  before  we  could  hear  him.  I  invited  my  neighbours, 
in  forty-three,  to  hear  a  book  of  his  sermons.  A  considera- 
ble number  met  to  hear,  every  Sabbath,  and  on  week  days. 
My  dwelling-house  soon  became  too  small  to  contain  the  peo- 
ple ;  whereupon  we  determined  to  build  a  meeting-house, 
merely  for  reading  ;  for,  having  never  been  accustomed  to 
social  extempore  prayer,  none  of  us  durst  attempt  it.     Many 


310         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

were  convinced  of  their  undone  condition,  and  could  not  help 
crying  out  and  weeping  bitterly. 

41  When  the  report  was  spread  abroad,  I  was  invited  to 
several  places,  at  a  distance,  to  read  these  sermons;  and  by 
this  means  the  concern  was  propagated.  About  this  time, 
our  absenting  ourselves  from  the  established  church,  con- 
trary, it  was  said,  to  the  laws  of  the  land,  was  taken  notice 
of,  and  we  were  called  upon  to  say  what  denomination  we  be- 
longed to  1  We  knew  but  little  of  any,  except  quakers,  and 
were  at  a  loss  what  name  to  assume.  At  length,  recollecting 
that  Luther  was  a  noted  reformer,  and  that  his  books  had 
been  of  special  service  to  us,  we  called  ourselves  Lutherans; 
and  thus  we  continued  till  Providence  sent  us  that  zealous 
and  laborious  minister,  Mr.  Robinson.  Afterwards  Mr.  Roan 
came,  speaking  pretty  freely  about  the  degeneracy  of  the  cler- 
gy. I  was  tried  for  letting  him  preach  in  my  house.  After- 
wards, I  was  repeatedly  fined  in  court  for  absenting  myself 
from  church.  Messrs.  Tennent  and  Blair  then  visited  us. 
When  they  were  gone,  Mr.  W'hitefield  came  and  preached 
four  or  five  days,  which  was  the  happy  means  of  giving  us 
further  encouragement,  and  of  engaging  others  to  the  Lord, 
— especially  among  church  people,  who  received  the  gospel 
more  readily  from  him,  than  from  ministers  of  the  presbyte- 
rian  denomination."  M orris's  Narrative.  In  1747,  there 
were  four  chapels  in  and  around  Hanover,  which  had  sprung 
from  the  "  mustard  seed"  of  sermons  taken  in  short  hand  from 
Whitefield's  lips  at  Glasgow. 

Amongst  the  converts  in  this  quarter,  who  saw  Whitefield, 
was  deaf  and  dumb  Isaac  Oliver.  He  had  been  so  from  his 
birth.  And  yet  he  could  represent  the  crucifixion  with  such 
significant  signs,  that  any  one  could  understand  his  meaning. 
He  could  also  converse  in  signs  at  home,  about  the  love  of 
Christ,  until  he  was  transported  to  rapture,  and  dissolved  in 
tears.  Many  incredible  things  are  told  of  Oliver.  It  is  evi- 
dent, however,  that  he  was,  what  he  was  called,  "  a  miracu- 
lous monument  of  Almighty  grace."  It  is  enough  to  say,  in 
proof  of  this,  that  Blair,  of  Fog's  Manor,  thought  him  "  truly 
gracious."  Robinson,  the  first  minister  of  the  Hanover 
Lutherans,  (as  they  called  themselves,)  seems  unknown  by 
American  biography.  And  yet  his  success  in  Kent  county, 
and  Queen  Anne's,  was  astonishing.  "  Oh,  he  did  much  in 
a  little  time,"  says  Davies  to  Bellamy ;  "  and  who  would 
not  choose   such   an    expeditious    pilgrimage   through   the 


whitefield's  life   and   times.         311 

world?"  In  Maryland  also,  about  Somerset  county,  there 
was  "  a  most  glorious  display  of  grace  "  under  his  ministry. 

Many  instances  of  his  former  usefulness  came  under 
Whitefield's  notice  in  New  England.  He  was  much  pleased 
with  a  negro,  who  had  been  his  chaise-driver,  when  he  first 
visited  Cambridge.  The  negro  had  been  allowed  to  hear  him 
in  the  college!  The  sermon  was  an  invitation  to  the  "  weary 
and  heavy  laden."  It  took  such  a  hold  upon  poor  Sambo, 
that  he  repeated  it  in  the  kitchen  when  he  came  home.  Coop- 
er, of  Boston,  was  so  satisfied  with  his  conversion,  and  White- 
field  so  pleased  with  it,  that  Sambo  was  soon  admitted  to  the 
Lord's  table. 

Another  "brand  plucked  from  the  burning"  ought  no1  to 
be  forgotten*  A  son  of  Mackintosh,  the  rebel  consigned  to 
perpetual  imprisonment  by  George  I.  had  settled  in  New 
England.  One  of  his  daughters,  a  lady  of  fortune,  heard 
Whitefield  at  Prince's  meeting  in  Boston.  She  was  arrested 
and  won.  She  was  soon  ripe  for  heaven.  On  her  death- 
bed, she  cried  out  for  her  soul-friend,  Mr.  Whitefield  ;  but 
soon  stopped,  saying,  "  Why  should  I  do  so?  He  is  gone 
about  his  Master's  work,  and  in  a  little  time  we  shall  meet  to 
part  no  more."  Whitefield  had  a  high  opinion  of  her  piety; 
and  his  interest  in  her  was  enhanced  by  a  signal  escape  from 
some  bribed  ruffians,  who  attempted  to  transport  her  and  her 
sister  to  Scotland,  that  their  uncle  might  seize  on  an  estate  of 
a  thousand  a  year.     Hist.  Coll. 

There  were  at  this  time  not  less  than  twenty  ministers,  in 
the  neighbourhood  of  Boston,  who  did  not  hesitate  to  call 
Whitefield  their  spiritual  father ;  thus  tracing  their  conversion 
to  his  ministry.  One  of  them,  who  went  merely  to  "  pick  a 
hole  in  his  coat,"  (to  find  fault,)  said,  "  God  picked  a  hole 
in  my  heart,  and  afterwards  healed  it  by  the  blood  of  sprink- 
ling." 

Although  Whitefield  travelled  eleven  hundred  miles  during 
this  itineracy  in  America,  I  have  found  it  impossible  to  trace 
him  much,  except  by  letters,  which  merely  state  his  health  or 
his  happiness  :  and  even  his  letters,  at  this  time,  are  both 
few  and  brief.  They  leave,  however,  a  conviction,  that  he 
was  inclined,  as  Gillies  says,  "  to  return  no  more  to  his  na- 
tive country."  New  England  had  evidently  won  his  heart, 
and  for  a  time  almost  weaned  him  from  Old  England  and 
Scotland  too.  When  he  left  it  for  North  Carolina,  he  said, 
"  God  only  knows  what  a  cross  it  was  to  me  to  leave  dear 


312        WHITEFI  ELD'S     LIFE     AND     TIMES. 

New  England  so  soon.  I  hope  death  will  not  be  so  bitter  to 
me,  as  was  parting  with  my  friends.  Glad  shall  I  be  to  be 
prayed  thither  again,  before  I  see  my  native  land  !  But  future 
things  belong  to  God.  I  would  just  be  where  He  would 
have  me,  although  in  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth.  I 
am  now  hunting  for  poor  lost  sinners  in  these  ungospclized 
wilds." 

This  expression,  "  hunting  for  souls,"  occurs  so  often  in 
Whitefield's  American  letters,  that  I  long  thought  it  was  his 
own,  from  his  fondness  of  it.  I  am  now  inclined  to  think 
that  he  borrowed  it  from  Brainerd's  converted  Indians  ;  some 
of  whom  were  very  zealous  to  win  the  souls  of  other  red 
men.  But  however  this  may  be,  the  expression  is  common 
still  amongst  the  Indians.  An  old  hunter  once  said  to  me, 
"  When  my  soul  was  caught  by  Jesus  Christ,  I  gave  up  the 
chase  of  beasts  to  hunt  for  more  souls  to  Jesus.  The  old 
traders  called  me  an  idle  fellow;  but  I  knew  better,  and  hunt- 
ed for  my  new  Master."  This  was  Whitefield's  favourite 
work.  "  I  would  not  but  be  thus  employed,"  he  says,  "  for 
millions  of  worlds  !  " 

He  did  not,  however,  forget  Bethesda.  When  he  had 
pleaded  its  cause  over  New  England,  he  visited  it,  and  add- 
ed a  Latin  school  to  the  orphan-house.  His  South  Carolina 
friends  also  enabled  him  to  purchase  a  plantation  in  aid  of 
it,  "  of  six  hundred  and  forty  acres  of  excellent  land,  with  a 
good  house,  barn,  and  out-houses,  and  sixty  acres  of  ground 
ready  cleared,  fenced,  and  fit  for  corn,  rice,  and  every  thing 
necessary  for  provisions," — except  slaves  !  They  gave  him 
only  one. 

Having  found  Bethesda  prosperous,  he  started  for  Mary- 
land, where  he  found  "  thousands  who  had  never  heard  of 
redeeming  grace."  This  roused  him  anew.  "  The  heat 
tries  my  wasting  tabernacle,"  he  said,  "  but,  through  Christ 
strengthening  me,  I  intend  persisting  until  I  drop."  He  did 
persist,  although  some  discouraged  him  ;  and  he  had  soon  to 
say,  in  answer  to  their  question, — "  Have  Marylanders  also 
received  the  grace  of  God?" — "  Amazing  love,  Maryland  is 
yielding  converts  to  Jesus.  The  gospel  is  moving  south- 
ward. The  harvest  is  promising.  The  time  of  singing  of 
birds  is  come."  His  circuit  in  this  quarter  extended  over 
three  hundred  miles,  besides  some  visits  in  Pennsylvania. 
The  secret  of  this  mighty  effort  was  this — "  thousands  and 
thousands  are  ready  to  hear  the  gospel,  and  nobody  goes  out 


wniTE  field's  life   and  times.         313 

scarcely  but  myself.  Now  is  the  time  for  stirring.  The  time 
for  sitting  is  coming  ;  in  no  meaner  place  (0  amazing  love!) 
than  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Lamb  of  God.  Let  us  see  what 
we  can  do  for  precious  and  immortal  souls."  It  was  such 
considerations  as  these,  that  inspired  Whitefield,  and  deter* 
mined  him  "  to  die  righting." 

After  this  tour  he  went  to  Philadelphia,  much  exhausted. 
But  still  he  preached,  although  his  convulsions  returned,  and 
the  "whole  frame"  of  his  "nature  seemed  to  be  shocked." 
"I  have,"  he  says,  "  almost  always  a  continual  burning  fever. 
With  great  regret  I  have  omitted  preaching  one  night,  (to 
oblige  my  friends,)  and  purpose  to  do  so  once  more,  that  they 
may  not  charge  me  with  murdering  myself.  But  I  hope  yet 
to  die  in  the  pulpit,  or  soon  after  I  come  out  of  it.  Next 
Monday  I  purpose  to  set  out  for  New- York,  to  see  if  I  can 
gain  strength.  It  is  hard  work  to  be  silent :  but  I  must  be 
tried  every  way." 

On  his  arrival  at  New- York,  he  said,  "  I  am  as  willing  to 
hunt  for  souls  as  ever.  I  am  not  weary  of  my  work."  Next 
day  he  was  at  his  work  again  !  "  I  have  preached  to  a  very 
large  auditory,  and  do  not  find  myself  much  worse  for  it." 
He  did  so  again  with  success.  Then  he  said,  "  I  shall  go  to 
Boston  like  an  arrow  out  of  a  bow,  if  Jesus  strengthen  me. 
I  am  resolved  to  preach  and  work  for  Him  until  I  can  preach 
and  work  no  more.  I  have  been  upon  the  water  three  or 
four  days,  and  now  eat  like  a  sailor."  He  went  to  Boston, 
and  there  congregations  were  larger  than  ever  ;  and  what  was 
better,  "  arrows  of  conviction  fled  and  stuck  fast,  and  oppos- 
ers'  mouths  were  stopped."  This  good  news  he  sent  to 
Tennent,  in  order  to  tempt  him  to  make  "  another  trip " 
there  ;  adding,  "  I  am  determined  to  die  fighting,  though  it 
be  on  my  stumps."  He  had  just  heard  of  the  sudden,  but 
happy,  death  of  his  aged  and  excellent  friend  Dr.  Colman. 

In  these  journeyings  and  vicissitudes,  Whitefield  never  for- 
got the  Wesleys.  They  had  sent  him  word,  that  they  were 
"  more  moderate  with  respect  to  sinless  perfection,"  than 
when  he  left  England  ;  and  he  returned  the  compliment  by 
assuring  them,  that  he  would  "  never  preach  for  or  against  re- 
probation." Some  one  had  written  to  him  charges  against 
Charles  Wesley.  He  immediately  sent  word  to  him  of  them  ; 
adding,  "  I  do  not  believe  them.  Love  thinks  no  evil  of  a 
friend.     Such  are  you  to  me.     I  love  you  most  dearly." 

He  returned  again  to  Maryland  ;    and  as  his  New-York 

27 


314  WHITEFI  ELD'S     LIFE     AND    TIMES. 

friends  were  anxious  about  his  health,  he  wrote  to  them  from 
Bohemia.  In  one  of  these  letters,  to  an  aged  veteran  whom 
he  could  not  expect  to  see  again,  he  says,  (referring  to  the 
Jewish  tradition,)  "Honoured  sir,  may  He  who  kissed  away 
the  soul  of  his  beloved  Moses,  appoint  a  Joshua  to  succeed 
you,  when  He  calls  you  up  into  the  mount  to  die."  His  own 
health  was  still  very  fluctuating,  even  when  he  reached  North 
Carolina.  "  I  am  here,"  he  says,  "  hunting  in  the  woods, 
these  ungospelized  wilds,  for  sinners.  It  is  pleasant  work, 
though  my  body  is  weak  and  crazy.  But  after  a  short  fermen- 
tation in  the  grave,  it  will  be  fashioned  like  unto  Christ's  glo- 
rious body.  The  thought  of  this  rejoices  my  soul,  and  makes 
me  long  to  leap  my  seventy  years  !  I  sometimes  think  all  will 
go  to  heaven  before  me.  Bray  for  me  as  a  dying  man  ;  but, 
oh,  pray  that  I  may  not  go  oflf  as  a  snvff.  I  would  fain  die 
blazing — not  with  human  glory,  but  with  the  love  of  Jesus." 
At  this  time,  a  very  little  riding  fatigued  him  much,  and  thus 
his  progress  was  both  slow  and  painful.  He  preached,  how- 
ever, with  great  power  ;  cheered  from  stage  to  stage  by  the 
hope  that  the  conversion  of  "North  Carolina  sinners  would 
be  glad  news  in  heaven." 

In  the  autumn  of  1747,  he  sailed  again  for  Georgia.  From 
this  time,  until  he  went  to  Bermudas  for  a  change  of  climate, 
in  1748,  I  am  unable  to  trace  him. 

The  only  thing  melancholy  in  this  sketch  of  Whitefield's 
history  in  New  England,  during  his  visit,  is,  the  conduct  of  the 
president  and  professors  of  Harvard  College  ;  and  that  was 
worse  than  it  appears  from  the  anecdotes  I  have  told.  They 
published  a  testimony  against  him,  in  which  they  said,  "We 
look  upon  Mr.  Whitefield  as  an  uncharitable,  censorious,  and 
slanderous  man."  In  proof  of  this,  they  refer  to  his  monstrous 
reflections  on  Archbishop  Tillotson  ;  whom,  they  say,  Dr. 
Increase  Mather  called  "  great  and  good."  They  forgot  to 
say,  that  Mather,  whilst  he  spoke  highly  of  Tillotson's  char- 
acter and  spirit,  "  constantly  warned  the  students  against  his 
books."  They  testified  against  his  extempore  preaching  also, 
"  because  it  is  impossible  any  man  can  manage  an  argument 
instructive  to  the  mind,  or  cogent  to  the  reasonable  powers," 
thus.  He  meekly  said,  "Indeed,  gentlemen,  I  love  study, 
and  delight  to  meditate.  Breaching  without  notes  costs  as 
much,  if  not  more,  close  and  solemn  thought,  as  well  as  con- 
fidence in  God,  than  with  notes."  They  had  also  the  auda- 
city to  say,  "  that  it  is  not  unlikely,  indeed  to  be  suspected, 


WHITE  FIELD'S      LIFE     AND     TIMES.  315 

that  he  is  an  antinomian  ;  "  yea,  "  stronger  in  the  antinomiao 
scheme  than  most  of  the  professors  of  that  heresy."  In  an- 
swer to  this  charge  he  appealed,  as  he  well  might,  to  the  tenor 
and  tendency  of  his  preaching,  and  reminded  them  that  the 
lapsus  lingua  from  which  they  argued  had  been  retracted  pub- 
licly before  they  wrote. 

His  "itinerant  way  of  preaching"  comes  in,  as  might  be 
expected,  to  be  testified  against  in  the  "  strongest  "  language 
of  the  learned  doctors.  They  define  an  itinerant  to  be  "  one 
that  stands  ready  to  preach  the  gospel  to  any  congregation 
that  may  call  him."  Whitefield  says  at  once, — "  1  own  the 
charge.  Were  not  Knox,  Welch,  Wishart,  and  several  of  the 
good  old  puritans,  itinerant  preachers  1 " 

They  also  repeated  the  charge  of  Clap,  of  Yale  College, 
that  he  came  into  New  England  "  to  turn  out  the  generality 
of  their  ministers,  and  to  replace  them  with  ministers  from 
England,  Ireland,  and  Scotland."  "  Such  a  thought,"  White- 
field  says,  "  never  entered  my  heart ;  neither,  as  I  know  of, 
has  my  preaching  any  such  tendency."  This  solemn  denial 
ought  to  be  held  decisive  on  this  point.  I  did  not  know  of 
it  when  I  wrote  the  account  of  his  interviews  with  Jonathan 
Edward's. 

Their  closing  charge  against  Whitefield  was,  that  "the 
coming  in  of  hot  men,  disturbing  the  churches,  was  wholly 
owing  to  his  influence  and  example."  This  refers,  of  course, 
to  the  Tennents, — and  the  heat  of  their  memory  is  not  yet  ex- 
hausted in  America  !  Gilbert  Tennent  will  be  remembered 
and  revered,  long  after  all  the  cold  men  of  Harvard  are  for- 
gotten. As  Whitefield  said,  "  thousands  will  thank  him  for 
coming  into  New  England,  through  all  the  ages  of  eternity." 
Having  said  this,  he  left  the  cold  men  in  his  own  way  : — "  if 
pulpits  should  be  shut,  the  fields  are  open,  and  I  can  go  with- 
out the  camp.  This  I  am  used  to,  and  glory  in.  If  I  have 
done  your  society  any  wrong  in  my  journal,  I  ask  forgive- 
ness. If  you  have  injured  me  in  the  testimony  you  published 
against  me,  (as  I  really  think  you  have,)  it  is  forgiven  already, 
without  asking."     Letter  to  Harvard  College,  Cambridge. 

Whilst  in  New  England,  Whitefield  wrote  his  letter  on  the 
bishop  of  Litchfield's  charge  to  his  clergy.  This  charge  was 
delivered  in  1741,  but  not  published  until  1744.  It  was, 
therefore,  a  deliberate  attack  on  methodism.  Indeed,  in  a 
subsequent  charge,  printed  in  1746,  now  before  me,  his  lord- 
ship refers  his  clergy  to  it ;  assuring  them,  that  "  if  the  false 


316        whitefield's    life    and    times. 

doctrines  of  the  Methodists  prevail,  they  must  unavoidably 
create  a  general  disorder  in  our  constitution;  and  if  so,  fa- 
vour the  return  of  popery  itself."  The  bishop,  Dr.  Smal- 
broke,  was  a  better  scholar  than  this  prophecy  indicates.  He 
had  grappled  with  Whiston,  on  Ananism  ;  with  Bentley,  on 
the  authority  of  the  primitive  Complutensian  ;  and  with  Wool- 
ston,  on  miracles.  It  was  not,  however,  a  very  formidable 
matter  to  grapple  with  him,  when  the  subject  was  the  grace  of 
the  Holy  Spirit.  Smalbroke  certainly  believed  that  there  is  a 
Holy  Ghost ;  but  no  one  could  well  believe  less  about  His 
work  and  witness. 

It  will  hardly  be  credited  now,  but  it  is  only  too  true,  that  a 
bishop  preached,  and  his  clergy  called  for,  the  publication  of 
the  following  sentiments  : — "The  indwelling  and  inward  wit- 
nessing of  the  Spirit,  are  all  extraordinary  gilts,  belonging  only 
to  apostolical  and  primitive  times ;  and  consequently  all  pre- 
tensions to  such  favours  in  these  last  days,  are  vain  and  en- 
thusiastical."  The  Spirit  spoken  of  as  helping  our  infirmities 
in  prayer,  "  was  the  Spirit  acting  in  the  inspired  person,  who 
had  the  gift  of  prayer,  and  who  in  that  capacity  prayed  for  the 
whole  assembly.  It  is  he  (not  the  Holy  Spirit)  that  maketh 
intercession  with  God  for  private  Christians  "  with  groanings 
which  cannot  be  uttered  !  The  Searcher  of  hearts  "  knowing 
the  mind  of  the  Spirit,"  means  that  "  God  knows  the  inten- 
tions or  the  inspired  "  prayer-leader  !  Preaching  in  "  the  de- 
monstration of  the  Spirit,"  means  no  more  than  proving 
44  Jesus  to  be  the  Messiah,  by  proofs  out  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment," and  by  miracles ! 

No  wonder  Whitetield  could  not  forget  these  perversions 
of  truth  and  soberness  in  America.  They  haunted  him  on  his 
voyages,  and  whilst  he  was  hunting  in  the  woods.  He  sent 
over  an  answer  to  the  charge,  addressed  to  the  clergy  who 
called  for  its  publication ;  not  to  the  bishop,  44  because  I 
hear,"  he  says,  44  that  he  is  very  aged." 

I  wish  I  could  say,  that  either  the  episcopal  bench,  or  the 
dissenting  board,  had  answered  it  also.  They  knew  better 
than  Whitefield,  that  Smalbroke,  although  an  old  man,  was  a 
sturdy  polemic,  and  in  no  danger  of  death  or  illness  from  hard 
blows.  But  the  bench  slumbered.  They  could  worry  White- 
field  or  Wesley  for  an  extravagant  word  ;  but  they  would  not 
even  bark  when  a  bishop  sapped  the  very  vitals  of  Christian- 
ity. Pope  certainly  knew  his  men  when  he  said, 
"A  saint  in  crape,  is  twice  a  saint  in  lawn." 


whitefield's  life   and  times.  317 

A  man  in  lawn  then,  might  say  almost  any  thing  with  impu- 
nity, if  it  was  only  well  said,  or  argued  with  a  show  of  learn- 
ing. Happily,  it  is  not  so  now.  Such  a  theologian  as  Smal- 
broke  would  not  be  left  to  the  lash  of  Methodists  or  dissen- 
ters ;  he  would  be  chastised  by  some  of  his  own  clergy,  or 
rebuked  by  some  of  the  bench.  It  is  needless  to  analize  or 
characterize  Whitefield's  answer  to  the  bishop.  It  is  enough 
to  say,  that  it  is  full  of  the  great  doctrines  of  the  Reformation. 
Even  where  it  pleads  for  too  much  of  the  direct  witness  of 
the  Spirit,  it  is  more  than  excusable  ;  for  had  not  Whitefield 
and  the  Wesleys  said  both  strong  and  startling  things  on  this 
subject,  when  both  the  work  and  witness  of  the  Spirit  were 
denied  and  denounced  from  "  high  places,"  those  in  low 
places  would  not  have  listened,  or  not  brought  "a  pressure 
from  without "  upon  the  hierarchy. 


2"i* 


318        white  field's  life   and   times 


CHAPTER  XV. 

WHITEFIELD      IN      BERMUDAS. 

The  isles  of  Bermuda  are  more  associated  in  the  public 
mind  with  the  memory  of  good  Bishop  Berkeley,  and  the 
poetry  of  Waller,  than  with  Whitefield.  They  were  probably 
indebted  to  Berkeley's  example  for  Whitefield's  visit. 

In  1721,  the  "  Vatiessa"  of  Swift  bequeathed  her  fortune  to 
Berkeley.  This  was  soon  followed  by  his  deserved  elevation 
to  the  deanery  of  Derry — worth  eleven  hundred  pounds  per 
annum.  Never  was  preferment  better  bestowed.  He  had 
long  cherished  the  design  of  evangelizing  the  American  In- 
dians, by  means  of  a  college  in  the  Bermudas.  Now,  he 
issued  proposals  for  it  in  London ;  offering  to  resign  his  pre- 
ferment, and  to  devote  his  life  to  the  instruction  of  young 
Americans,  and  stipulating  for  only  a  hundred  a  year  to  him- 
self. This  noble  disinterestedness  won  patronage  at  first. 
Government  gave  him  a  grant  of  £10,000 ;  and  he  sailed  to 
carry  his  plans  into  effect.  He  was  not  sustained  by  the 
ministry,  however,  in  the  way  he  expected.  He,  therefore, 
made  presents  of  his  library  to  the  clergy  of  Rhode  Island,  and 
to  Yale  College.  To  the  latter,  although  not  at  all  episcopa- 
lian, he  gave  a  thousand  volumes,  besides  his  estate  at  New- 
port, where  he  wrote  his  "  Minute  Philosopher." 

"Berkeley  then  returned  to  Ireland,  and  in  1773  was 
made  bishop  of  Cloyne.  It  is  almost  impossible,  in  the 
presence  of  these  facts,  to  remember  either  his  Platonism  or 
his  idealism.  He  was  a  great  and  a  good  man.  Atterbury 
might  well  say  of  him,  "  So  much  understanding,  so  much 
knowledge,  so  much  innocence,  and  such  humilily, — I  did 
not  think  had  been  the  portion  of  any  but  angels,  till  I  saw 
this  gentleman." 

These  facts,  as  well  as  the  climate,  drew  Whitefield  to  Ber- 
mudas, where  he  met  with  the  kindest  reception,  and  for  about 
a  month  preached  generally  twice  a  day,  traversing  the  island 
from  one  end  to  the  other.     His  activity,  treatment,  and  sue- 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       319 

cess,  will  best  appear  from  the  following  extracts  of  his  manu- 
script journal  of  that  period. 

"  The  simplicity  and  plainness  of  the  people,  together  with 
the  pleasant  situation  of  the  island,  much  delighted  me.  The 
Rev.  Mr.  Holiday,  minister  of  Spanish  Point  received  me  in 
a  most  affectionate  Christian  manner ;  and  begged  I  would 
make  his  house  my  home.  In  the  evening  I  expounded  at 
the  house  of  Mr.  Savage,  at  Port  Royal,  which  was  very 
commodious  ;  and  which  also  he  would  have  me  make  my 
home.  I  went  with  Mr.-  Savage  in  a  boat,  lent  us  by  Cap- 
tain   ,  to  the  town  of  St.    George,   in  order  to  pay  our 

respects  to  the  governor.  All  along  we  had  a  most  pleasant 
prospect  of  the  other  part  of  the  island,  but  a  more  pleasant 
one  1  never  saw.  One  Mrs.  Smith,  of  St.  George's,  for  whom 
I  had  a  letter  of  recommendation  from  my  dear  old  friend, 
Mr.  Smith  of  Charlestown,  received  me  into  her  house. 
About  noon,  with  one  of  the  council  and  Mr.  Savage,  I  waited 
upon  the  governor.  He  received  us  courteously,  and  invited 
us  to  dine  with  him  and  the  council  at  a  tavern.  We  accepted 
the  invitation,  and  all  behaved  with  great  civility  and  respect. 
After  the  governor  rose  from  the  table,  he  desired,  if  I  stayed 
in  town  on  the  Sunday,  that  I  would  dine  with  him  at  his  own 
house. 

"  Sunday,  March  20.  Read  prayers  and  preached  twice 
this  day,  to  what  were  esteemed  here  large  auditories, — 
in  the  morning  at  Spanish  Point  church,  and  in  the  evening 
at  Brackish  Point  church,  about  two  miles  distant  from  each 
other.  In  the  afternoon  I  spoke  with  greater  freedom  than  in 
the  morning  ;  and,  I  trust,  not  altogether  in  vain.  All  were 
attentive — some  wept.  I  dined  with  Colonel  Butterfield,  one 
of  the  council ;  and  received  several  invitations  to  other  gen- 
tlemen's houses.  May  God  bless  and  reward  them,  and 
incline  them  to  open  their  hearts  to  receive  the  Lord  Jesus ! 
Amen  and  Amen! 

"  Wednesday,  March  23.  Dined  with  Captain  Gibbs,  and 
went  from  thence  and  expounded  at  the  house  of  Captain 
F le,  at  Hunbay,  about  two  miles  distant.  The  com- 
pany was  here  also  large,  attentive,  and  affected.  Our  Lord 
gave  me  utterance.  I  expounded  on  the  first  part  of  the  8th 
chapter  of  Jeremiah.  After  lecture,  Mr.  Riddle,  a  counsel- 
lor, invited  me  to  his  house  ;  as  did  Mr.  Paul,  an  aged  Pres- 
byterian minister,  to  his  pulpit ;  which  I  complied  with,  upon 
condition  the  report  was  true,  that  the  governor  had  served 


320        whitefield's   life   and  times. 

the  ministers  with  an  injunction  that  I  should  not  preach  in  the 
churches. 

44  Friday,  March  25.  Was  prevented  preaching  yesterday 
by  the  rain,  which  continued  from  morning  till  night ;  but 
this  afternoon,  God  gave  me  another  opportunity  of  declaring 
his  eternal  truths  to  a  large  company  at  the  house  of  one  Mr. 
B s,  who  last  night  sent  me  a  letter  of  invitation. 

44  Sunday,  March  27.  Glory  be  to  God  !  I  hope  this  has 
been  a  profitable  Sabbath  to  many  souls;  it  has  been  a  pleas- 
ant one  to  mine.  Both  morning  and  afternoon  I  preached  to 
a  large  auditory,  for  Bermudas,  in  Mr.  Paul's  meeting- 
house, which  I  suppose  contains  about  four  hundred.  Abun- 
dance of  negroes,  and  many  others,  were  in  the  vestry,  porch, 
and  about  the  house.  The  word  seemed  to  be  clothed  with 
a  convicting  power,  and  to  make  its  way  into  the  hearts  of 
the  hearers.  Between  sermons,  I  was  entertained  very  civilly 
in  a  neighbouring  house.  Judge  Bascom,  and  three  more  of 
the  council,  came  thither,  and  each  gave  me  an  invitation 
to  his  house.  How  does  the  Lord  make  way  for  a  poor 
stranger  in  a  strange  land  ! — After  the  second  sermon  I  dined 
with  Mr.  Paul  ;  and  in  the  evening  expounded  to  a  very  large 
company  at  Counsellor  Riddle's.  My  body  was  somewhat 
weak  ;  but  the  Lord  carried  me  through,  and  caused  me  to  go 
to  rest  rejoicing. — May  I  thus  go  to  my  grave,  when  my 
ceaseless,  uninterrupted  rest  shall  begin! 

44  Monday,  March  28.  Dined  this  day  at  Mrs.  Dorrel's, 
mother-in-law  to  my  dear  friend  the  Rev.  Mr  Smith  ;  and  af- 
terwards preached  to  more  than  a  large  house  full  of  people, 
on  Matthew  ix.  12.  Towards  the  conclusion  of  the  sermon, 
the  hearers  began  to  be  more  affected  than  I  have  yet  seen 
them.  Surely  the  Lord  Jesus  will  give  me  some  seals  in 
this  island !  Grant  this,  0  Redeemer,  for  thy  infinite  mercy 
sake  ! 

44  Thursday,  March  31.  Dined  on  Tuesday,  at  Colonel 
Corbusiers,  and  on  Wednesday  at  Colonel  Gilbert's,  both  of 
the  council ;  and  found,  by  what  I  could  hear,  that  some  good 
had  been  done,  and  many  prejudices  removed.  Who  shall 
hinder  if  God  will  work  I  Went  to  an  island  this  afternoon, 
called  Ireland,  upon  which  live  a  few  families ;  and  to  my 
surprise,  found  a  great  many  gentlemen,  and  other  people, 
with  my  friend  Mr.  Holiday,  who  came  from  different  quarters 
to  hear  me.  Before  I  began  preaching,  I  went  round  to  see 
a  most  remarkable  cave,  which  very  much  displayed  the  ex- 


whitefield's    life   and  times.  321 

quisite  workmanship  of  Him,  who  in  his  strength,  sctteth  fast 
the  mountains,  and  is  girded  about  with  power.  Whilst  I  was 
in  the  cave,  quite  unexpectedly  I  turned  and  saw  Counsellor 
Riddle,  who,  with  his  son,  came  to  hear  me;  and  whilst  we 
were  in  the  boat,  told  me  that  he  had  been  with  the  governor, 
who  declared  he  had  no  personal  prejudices  against  me — and 
wondered  I  did  not  come  to  town  and  preach  there,  for  it  was 
the  desire  of  the  people  ;  and  that  any  house  in  the  town,  the 
court-house  not  excepted,  should  be  at  my  service.  Thanks 
be  to  God  for  so  much  favour  !  If  his  cause  requires  it,  I  shall 
have  more.  He  knows  my  heart ;  I  value  the  favour  of  man 
no  further  than  as  it  makes  room  for  the  gospel,  and  gives  me 
a  larger  scope  to  promote  the  glory  of  God.  There  being  no 
capacious  house  upon  the  island,  I  preached  for  the  first  time 
here  in  the  open  air.  All  heard  very  attentive  ;  and  it  was 
very  pleasant  after  sermon  to  see  so  many  boats  full  of  people 
returning  from  the  worship  of  God.  I  talked  seriously  to 
some  in  our  own  boat,  and  sung  a  psalm,  in  which  they  readily 
joined. 

"  Sunday,  April  3.  Preached  twice  this  day  at  Mr.  Paul's 
meeting-house,  as  on  the  Sabbath,  but  with  greater  freedom 
and  power,  especially  in  the  morning  ;  and  I  think  to  as 
great,  if  not  greater  auditories.  Dined  with  Colonel  Harvy, 
another  of  the  council — visited  a  sick  woman,  where  many 
came  to  hear — and  expounded  afterwards  to  a  great  company, 
at  Captain  John  Dorrel's,  Mrs.  Dorrel's  son,  who,  with  his 
wife,  courteously  entertained  me,  and  desired  me  to  make  his 
house  my  home.  So  true  is  that  promise  of  our  Lord's,  '  that 
whosoever  leaves  father  and  mother,  house  or  lands,  shall 
have  in  this  life  a  hundredfold,  with  persecution,  and  in  the 
world  to  come,  life  everlasting.'  Lord,  I  have  experienced 
the  one :  in  thy  good  time  grant  that  I  may  experience  the 
other  also ! 

"  Wednesday,  April  6.  Preached  yesterday  at  the  house 
of  Mr.  Anthony  Smith,  of  Baylis  Bay,  with  a  considerable 
degree  of  warmth  ;  and  rode  afterwards  to  St.  George's,  the 
only  town  on  the  island.  The  gentlemen  of  the  town  had 
sent  me  an  invitation  by  Judge  Bascom  ;  and  he,  with  several 
others,  came  to  visit  me  at  my  lodgings,  and  informed  me  that 
the  governor  desired  to  see  me.  About  ten  I  waited  upon 
his  excellency,  who  received  me  with  great  civility,  and  told 
me  he  had  no  objection  against  my  person  or  my  principles, 
having  never  yet  heard  me  ;  and  he  knew  nothing  in  respect 


322  whitefield's  life  and   times. 

to  my  conduct  in  moral  life  that  might  prejudice  him  against 
me ;  but   his    instructions  were,  to  let  none  preach  in   the 
island,  unless  he  had  a  written  license  to  preach  some  where 
in    America,   or  the  AVest  Indies  ;  at  the  same  time  he  ac- 
knowledged that  it  was  a  matter  of  mere  form.     I   informed 
his  excellency  that  I  had  been  regularly  inducted  lo  the  parish 
of  Savannah  ;   that  I  was  ordained  priest  by  letters  dimissory 
from  my  lord  of  London,  and  under  no  church  censure  from 
his  lordship  ;  and  would  always  read  the  church  prayers,  if  the 
clergy  would  give  me  the  use  of  their  churches. — I  added 
further,  that  a  minister's  pulpit  was  looked  upon  as  his  free- 
hold, and  that  I  knew  one  clergyman  who  had  denied  his  own 
diocesan  the  use  of  his  pulpit.     But  I  told  his  excellency,  I 
was  satisfied  with  the  liberty  he  allowed   me,  and  would  not 
act  contrary  to  his  injunction.     I  then  begged  leave  to  be  dis- 
missed, because  I  was  obliged  to  preach  at  eleven  o'clock. 
His  exellency  said  he  intended  to  do  himself  the  pleasure  to 
hear  me.     At  eleven  the  church  bell  rung.     The  church  Bi- 
ble, prayer-book,  and  cushion,  were  sent  to  the  town-house. 
The  governor,  several  of  the  council,  the  minister  of  the  parish, 
and  assembly-men,  with  a  great  number  of  the  town's  people, 
assembled  in  great  order.     I  was  very  sick,  through  a  cold  I 
caught  last  night ;  but  read   the   church  prayers.     The  first 
lesson  was  the  15th  chapter  of  the  1st  book  of  Samuel.     I 
preached  on  those  words,  "  Righteousness  exalteth  a  nation." 
Being  weak  and  faint,  and  afflicted  much  with  the  head-ache, 
I  did  not  do  that  justice  to  my  subject  I  sometimes  am  enabled 
to  do  :   but  the  Lord  so  helped  me  that,  as  I  found  afterwards, 
the  governor  and  the  other  gentlemen  expressed  their  appro- 
bation, and  acknowledged  they  did  not  expect  to  be  so  well 
entertained.     Not  unto  me,  Lord  !  not  unto  me,  but  unto  thy 
free  grace  be  all  the  glory  ! 

"  After  sermon,  Dr.  F bs,  and  Mr.  P 1,  the  collec- 
tor, came  to  me,  and  desired  me  to  favour  them  and  the  gen- 
tlemen of  the  town  with  my  company  to  dinner.  I  accepted 
the  invitation.  The  governor,  and  the  president,  and  Judge 
Bascom  were  there.  All  wondered  at  my  speaking  so  freely 
and  fluently,  without  notes.  The  governor  asked,  whether  I 
.  used  minutes  1  I  answered,  no.  He  said  it  was  a  great 
gift.  At  table,  his  excellency  introduced  something  of  re- 
ligion, by  asking  me  the  meaning  of  the  word  hades  i  Seve- 
ral other  things  were  started  about  free  will,  Adam's  fall, 
predestination,  &c,  to  all  which  God  enabled  me  to  answer 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         223 

so  pertinently,  and  taught  me  to  mix  the  utile,  and  dulce  so 
together,  that  all  at  table  seemed  highly  pleased,  shook  me  by 
the  hand,  and  invited  me  to  their  respective  houses.  The 
governor,  in  particular,   asked   me  to  dine  with  him   on  the 

morrow;   and  Dr.  F bs,  one  of  his  particular  intimates, 

invited  me  to  drink  tea  in  the  afternoon.  I  thanked  all,  re- 
turned proper  respects,  and  went  to  my  lodgings  with  some 
degree  of  thankfulness  for  the  assistance  vouchsafed  me,  and 
abased  before  God  at  the  consideration  of  my  unspeakable 
unworthiness.  In  the  afternoon,  about  five  o'clock,  I  ex- 
pounded the  parable  of  the  prodigal  son  to  many  people  at  a 
private  house ;  and  in  the  evening  had  liberty  to  speak  freely 
and  closely  to  those  that  supped  with  me.  Oh  that  this  may 
be  the  beginning  of  good  gospel  times  to  the  inhabitants  of 
this  town !  Lord,  teach  me  to  deal  prudently  with  them,  and 
cause  them  to  melt  under  thy  word  ! 

"  Friday,  April  8.  Preached  yesterday  with  great  clear- 
ness and  freedom,  to  about  fourscore  people,  at  a  house  on 
David's  Island,  over  against  St.  George's  Town — went  and 
lay  at  Mr.  Holiday's,  who  came  in  a  boat  to  fetch  me — and 
this  day  I  heard  him  preach  and  read  prayers;  after  which  I 
took  the  sacrament  from  him.  Honest  man  !  he  would  have 
made  me  administer  and  officiate  ;  but  I  chose  not  to  do  it, 
lest  I  should  bring  him  into  trouble  after  my  departure.  How- 
ever, in  the  afternoon,  I  preached  at  Mr.  Todd's,  in  the  same 
parish,  to  a  very  large  company  indeed.  The  Lord  was  with 
me.  My  heart  was  warm — and  what  went  from  the  heart, 
I  trust  went  to  the  heart ;  for  many  were  affected.  Oh  that 
they  may  be  converted  also  !  Then  it  will  be  a  good  Friday, 
indeed,  to  their  souls. 

"  Sunday,  April  10.  Dined  and  conversed  yesterday  very 
agreeably  with  Judge  Bascom,  who  seems  to  have  the  great- 
est insight  into  the  difference  between  Arminian  and  Calvinis- 
tical  schemes,  of  any  one  I  have  met  with  upon  the  island. — 
In  the  afternoon,  I  visited  a  paralytic  ;  and  this  day  preached 
twice  again  at  Mr.  Paul's  meeting-house.  The  congrega- 
tions were  rather  larger  than  ever,  and  the  power  of  God 
seemed  to  be  more  amongst  them.  I  think  I  see  a  visible 
alteration  for  the  better  every  Lord's  day.  Blessed  be  God ! 
— In  the  evening  I  expounded  at  Mr.  Joseph  Dorrell's,  where 
I  dined,  to  a  very  large  company  ;  then  went  to  his  kinsman's, 
my  usual  lodging  on  Saturday  and  Sunday  evenings  ;  who 
with  his  wife  and  other  friends,  seemed   kinder  and  kinder 


32-1         white  field's    life    and    times. 

daily.  Good  measure,  pressed  down,  and  running  over,  may 
the  Lord,  both  as  to  spirituals  and  temporals,  return  into  all 
their  bosoms  ! 

"  Saturday,  April  16.  Preached  since  Lord's  day  at  five 
different  houses,  to  concerned  and  affected  congregations,  at 
different  parts  of  the  island  ;  but  was  more  indisposed  one 
night  after  going  to  bed,  than  I  had  been  for  some  time.  On 
two  of  the  days  of  this  week,  I  dined  with  the  president,  and 
Captain  Spafford,  one  of  the  council,  both  of  whom  enter- 
tained me  with  the  utmost  civility. 

"  Sunday,  April  17.  Still  God  magnifies  his  power  and 
goodness  more  and  more.  This  morning  we  had  a  pleasing 
sight  at  Mr.  Paul's  meeting-house.  I  began  to  preach,  and 
the  people  to  hear  and  be  affected  as  in  the  days  of  old  at 
home.  Indeed  the  prospect  is  encouraging.  Praise  the 
Lord,  0  my  soul! — After  preaching  twice  to  a  large  congre- 
gation in  the  meeting-house,  I,  at  the  desire  of  the  parents, 
preached  in  the  evening  a  sermon  at  the  funeral  of  a  little 
boy,  about  five  years  of  age.  A  great  number  of  people  at- 
tended, and  the  Lord  enabled  me  so  to  speak,  as  to  affect 
many  of  the  hearers.  Blessed  be  the  Lord  for  this  day's 
work!  Not  unto  me,  0  Lord!  not  unto  me,  but  unto  thy  free 
grace  be  all  the  glory ! 

"  Sunday,  April  24.  The  last  week  being  rainy,  I  preach- 
ed only  five  times  in  private  houses  ;  and  this  day  but  once 
in  the  meeting-house  ;  but  I  hope  neither  times  without  effect. 
This  evening  expounded  at  Counsellor  Riddle's,  who,  with 
the  other  gentlemen,  treat  me  with  greater  respect  every  day. 
Colonel  Gilbert,  one  of  the  council,  has  lent  me  his  horse, 
during  my  stay  ;  and  Mr.  Dorrell,  this  morning,  informed  me 
of  a  design  the  gentlemen  had,  to  raise  a  contribution  to  help 
me  to  discharge  my  arrears,  and  support  my  orphan  family. 
Thanks  be  given  to  thy  name,  O  God  !  Thou  knowest  all 
things  :  thou  knowest  that  I  want  to  owe  no  man  any  thing, 
but  love ;  and  provide  for  Bethesda  after  my  decease.  Thou 
hast  promised  thou  wilt  fulfil  the  desire  of  them  that  fear  thee. 
I  believe,  Lord,  help  my  unbelief,  that  thou  wilt  fulfil  this  de- 
sire of  my  soul.     Even  so.     Amen. 

"  Saturday,  April  30.  Preached  since  Lord's  day  two 
funeral  sermons,  and  at  five  different  houses  in  different  parts 
of  the  island,  to  still  larger  and  larger  auditories,  and  perceiv- 
ed the  people  to  be  affected  more  and  more.  Twice  or  thrice 
I  preached  without  doors.     Riding  in  the  sun,  and  preaching 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       325 

very  earnestly,  a  little  fatigued  one  ;  so  that  this  evening  I 
was  obliged  to  lie  down  lor  some  time.  Faint,  yet  pursuing, 
must  be  my  motto  still. 

"  Sunday,  May  1.  This  morning,  was  a  little  sick  ;  but  I 
trust  God  gave  us  a  happy  beginning  of  the  new  month.  I 
preached  twice  with  power,  especially  in  the  morning,  to  a 
very  great  congregation  in  the  meeting-house ;  and  in  the 
evening,  having  given  previous  notice,  1  preached  about  four 
miles  distant,  in  the  fields,  to  a  large  company  of  negroes, 
and  a  number  of  white  people  who  came  to  hear  what  I  had 
to  say  to  them.  I  believe,  in  all,  near  fifteen  hundred  people. 
As  the  sermon  was  intended  for  the  negroes,  I  gave  the  audi- 
tory warning,  that  my  discourse  would  be  chietiy  directed  to 
them,  and  that  I  should  endeavour  to  imitate  the  example  of 
Elijah,  who,  when  he  was  about  to  raise  the  child,  contracted 
himself  to  its  length.  The  negroes  seemed  very  sensible 
and  attentive.  When  I  asked,  if  they  all  did  not  desire  to  go 
to  heaven?  one  of  them,  with  a  very  audible  voice,  said, 
'  Yes,  sir.'  This  caused  a  little  smiling ;  but,  in  general, 
every  thing  was  carried  on  with  great  decency  ;  and  I  believe 
the  Lord  enabled  me  so  to  discourse,  as  to  touch  the  negroes, 
and  yet  not  to  give  them  the  least  umbrage  to  slight  or  be- 
have imperiously  to  their  masters.  If  ever  a  minister,  in 
preaching,  need  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent  to  be  joined  with 
the  harmlessness  of  the  dove,  it  must  be  when  discoursing  to 
negroes.  Vouchsafe  me  this  favour,  0  God,  for  thy  dear 
Son's  sake ! 

"  Monday,  May  2.  Upon  inquiry,  I  found  that  some  of 
the  negroes  did  not  like  my  preaching,  because  I  told  them  of 
their  cursing,  swearing,  thieving,  and  lying.  One  or  two  of 
the  worst  of  them,   as  I  was  informed,  went  away.     Some 

said,  they  would  not  go  any  more.     They  liked  Mr.  M r 

better,  for  he  never  told  them  of  these  things;  and  I  said,  their 
hearts  were  as  black  as  their  faces.  They  expected,  they 
said,  to  hear  me  speak  against  their  masters.  Blessed  be 
God,  that  I  was  directed  not  to  say  any  thing,  this  first  time, 
to  the  masters  at  all,  though  my  text  led  me  to  it.  It  m  g  it 
have  been  of  bad  consequences,  to  tell  them  their  duty,  or 
charge  them  too  roundly  with  neglect  of  it,  before  their  slaves. 
They  would  mind  all  I  said  to  their  masters,  and,  perhrps, 
nothing  that  I  said  to  them.  Every  thing  is  beautiful  in  its 
season.  Lord,  teach  me  always  that  due  season,  wherever  I 
am  called,  to  give  either  black  or  white  a  portion  of  thy  word ! 


326        whitefield's  life    and  times. 

However,  others  of  the  poor  creatures,  I  hear,  were  very 
thankful,  and  came  home  to  their  masters'  houses,  saying, 
that  they  would  strive  to  sin  no  more.  Poor  hearts!  These 
different  accounts  affected  me  ;  and  upon  the  whole,  I  could 
not  help  rejoicing,  to  find  that  their  consciences  were  so  far 
awake. 

"  Saturday,  May  7.  In  my  conversation  these  two  days, 
with  some  of  my  friends,  I  was  diverted  much  in  hearing 
several  things  that  passed  among  the  poor  negroes,  since  my 
preaching  to  them  last  Sunday.  One  of  the  women,  it  seems, 
said,  '  that  if  the  book  I  preached  out  of  was  the  best  book 
that  was  ever  bought  at  London,  she  was  sure  it  had  never 
all  that  in  it  which  I  spoke  to  the  negroes.'  The  old  man, 
who  spoke  out  loud  last  Sunday,  and  said,  '  yes,'  when  I  ask- 
ed them  whether  all  the  negroes  would  not  go  to  heaven? 
being  questioned  by  somebody,  why  he  spoke  out  so  1  an- 
swered, '  That  the  gentleman  put  the  question  once  or  twice 
to  them,  and  the  other  fools  had  not  the  manners  to  make  me 
any  answer ;  till,  at  last,  I  seemed  to  point  at  him,  and  he 
was  ashamed  that  nobody  should  answer  me,  and  therefore 
he  did.'  Another,  wondering  why  I  said  negroes  had  black 
hearts,  was  answered  by  his  black  brother  thus :  '  Ah,  thou 
fool !  dost  thou  not  understand  it?  lie  means  black  with  sin.' 
Two  more  girls  were  overheard  by  their  mistress  talking 
about  religion  :  and  they  said,  '  They  knew  if  they  did  not 
repent,  they  must  be  damned.'  From  all  which  I  infer,  that 
these  Bermudas  negroes  are  more  knowing  than  I  sup- 
posed ;  that  their  consciences  are  awake,  and  consequently 
prepared,  in  a  good  measure,  for  hearing  the  gospel  preach- 
ed unto  them. 

"  Sunday,  May  8.  This  also,  I  trust,  has  been  a  good 
Sabbath.  In  the  morning  I  was  helped  to  preach  powerfully 
to  a  melting,  and  rather  a  larger  congregation  than  ever,  in 
Mr.  Paul's  meeting-house  ;  and  in  the  evening,  to  almost  as 
large  a  congregation  of  black  and  white  as  last  Sunday  in  the 
fields,  near  my  hearty  friend,  Mr.  Holiday's  house.  To  see 
so  many  black  faces  was  affecting.  They  heard  very  atten- 
tively, and  some  of  them  now  began  to  weep.  May  God 
grant  them  a  godly  sorrow,  that  worketh  repentance  not  to  be 
repented  of! 

"  Friday,  May  13.  This  afternoon  preached  over  the 
corpse  of  Mr.  Paul's  eldest  son,  about  twenty-four  years  of 
age  ;  and  by  all  I  could  hear,  and  judge  of  by  conversing  with 


whitefield's  life   and   times.  327 

him,  he  did  indeed  die  in  the  Lord.  I  visited  him  twice  last 
Lord's  day,  and  was  quite  satisfied  with  what  he  said,  though 
he  had  not  much  of  the  sensible  presence  of  God.  I  find  he 
was  a  preacher  upon  his  death-bed  :  for  he  exhorted  all  his 
companions  to  love  Christ  in  sincerity;  and  blessed  his 
brother  and  sister,  and,  1  think,  his  father  and  mother,  just  be- 
fore his  departure.  A  great  many  people  attended  the  fune- 
ral. I  preached  on  Luke  viii.  13,  '  And  when  the  Lord  saw 
her,  he  had  compassion  on  her,  and  said  unto  her,  Weep  not.' 
Many  were  affected  in  the  application  of  my  discourse  ;  and, 
I  trust,  some  will  be  induced,  by  this  young  man's  good  ex- 
ample, to  remember  their  Redeemer  in  the  days  of  their 
youth.     Grant  it,  0  Lord,  for  thy  dear  Son's  sake. 

"  Sunday,  May  15.  Praise  the  Lord,  O  my  soul,  and  all 
that  is  within  me,  praise  his  holy  name !  This  morning  I 
preached  my  farewell  sermon  at  Mr.  Paul's  meeting-house — 
it  was  quite  full ;  and,  as  the  president  said,  above  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  whites,  besides  blacks,  were  round  the  house. 
Attention  sat  on  every  face  ;  and  when  I  came  to  take  my 
leave,  oh!  what  a  sweet,  unaffected  weeping  was  there  to  be 
seen  every  where!  I  believe  there  were  few  dry  eyes.  The 
negroes,  likewise,  without  doors,  I  heard  weep  plentifully. 
My  own  heart  was  affected ;  and  though  I  have  parted  with 
friends  so  often,  yet  I  find  every  fresh  parting  almost  unman3 
me,  and  very  much  affects  my  heart.  Surely  a  great  work  is 
begun  in  some  souls  at  Bermudas.  Carry  it  on,  O  Lord!  and 
if  it  be  thy  will,  send  me  to  this  dear  people  again.  Even  so, 
Lord  Jesus*     Amen! 

"  After  sermon,  I  dined  with  three  of  the  council,  and  other 
gentlemen  and  ladies,  at  Captain  Bascom's  ;  and  from  thence 

we  went  to  a  funeral,   at  which  Mr.  M r  preached ;   and 

after  that,  I  expounded  on  our  Lord's  transfiguration,  at  the 
house  of  one  Mrs.  Harvey,  sister  to  dear  Mr.  Smith,  of 
Charlestown.  The  house  was  exceeding  full,  and  it  was  sup- 
posed above  three  hundred  stood  in  the  yard.  The  Lord 
enabled  me  to  lift  up  my  voice  like  a  trumpet.  Many  wept, 
Mr.  M r  returned  from  the  funeral  with  me,  and  attend- 
ed the  lecture ;  as  did  the  three  councillors,  with  whom  I 
conversed  freely.  May  God  reward  them,  and  all  the  dear 
people  of  the  island,  for  those  many  favours  conferred  on 
me,  who  am  the  chief  of  sinners,  and  less  than  the  least  of 
all  saints ! 

•«  Sunday,  May  22.     Blessed  be  God !   the   little  leaven 


328       whitefield's    life    and    times. 

thrown  into  the  three  measures  of  meal,  begins  to  ferment, 
and  work  almost  every  day  for  the  week  past.  I  have  con- 
versed with  souls  loaded  with  a  "sense  of  their  sins;  and.  as 
far  as  I  can  judge,  really  pricked  to  the  heart.  I  preached 
only  three  times,  but  to  almost  three  times  larger  auditories 
than  usual.  Indeed  the  ^elds  are  white  ready  unto  harvest. 
God  has  been  pleased  to  bless  private  visits.  Go  where  I 
will,  upon  the  least  notice,  houses  are  crowded,  and  the  poor 
souls  that  follow  are  soon  drenched  in  tears.  This  day  I 
took,  as  it  were,  another  farewell.  As  the  ship  did  not  eail, 
I  preached  at  Somerset  in  the  morning  to  a  large  congrega- 
tion in  the  fields  ;  and  expounded  in  the  evening  at  Mr.  Hur- 
vey's  house,  round  which  stood  many  hundreds  of  people. 
But  in  the  morning  and  evening,  how  did  the  poor  souls  weep  ! 
Abundance  of  prayers  and  blessings  were  put  up  for  my  safe 
passage  to  England,  and  speedy  return  to  Bermudas  again. 
May  they  enter  into  the  ears  of  the  Lord  of  Sabaoth  !  With 
all  humility  and  thankfulness  of  heart,  will  I  here,  0  Lord, 
set  up  my  Ebcnezer ;  for  hitherto  surely  thou  hast  helped 
me !  Thanks  be  to  the  Lord  for  sending  me  hither.  I  have 
been  received  in  a  manner  I  dared  not  expect;  and  have  met 
with  little,  very  little  opposition,  indeed.  The  inhabitants 
seem  to  be  plain  and  open-hearted.  They  have  loaded  me 
with  provisions  for  my  sea-store ;  and  in  the  several  parish- 
es, by  a  private  voluntary  contribution,  have  raised  me  up- 
wards of  one  hundred  pounds  sterling.  This  will  pay  a  lit- 
tle of  Bethesda's  debt,  and  enable  me  to  make  such  a  remit- 
tance to  my  dear  yoke-fellow,  as  may  keep  her  from  being 
embarrassed,  or  too  much  beholden,  in  my  absence.  Bless- 
ed be  God,  for  bringing  me  out  of  my  embarrassment  by 
degrees !  May  the  Lord  reward  all  my  benefactors  a  thou- 
sandfold !  I  hear  that  what  was  given,  was  given  exceedingly 
keartily ;  and  people  only  lamented  that  they  could  do  no 
more." 

Transmitting  to  Georgia  the  contributions  he  had  received, 
and  fearing  a  relapse  if  he  had  returned  to  America  in  the 
heat  of  the  summer  ;  and  also  being  much  pressed  to  return 
to  England,  Mr.  VYhiterteld  took  his  passage  in  a  brig,  and 
arrived  safe  in  twenty-eight  days  at  Deal :  and  the  next  even- 
ing, July  6,  he  came  to  London,  having  been  absent  near  four 
rears. 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        339 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

WHITEFIELD      RANGING. 

In  1 748,  after  an  absence  of  four  years,  Whitefield  return- 
ed to  his  native  land;  not  exactly  from  choice,  but  because  he 
was  afraid  to  risk  his  restored  health  in  America  again,  during 
the  heat  of  July.  He  embarked  at  Bermudas  in  June,  on 
board  the  Betsey,  and  lived,  as  he  expresses  it,  "  like  people 
that  came  from  the  continent,  not  from  an  island — so  bounti- 
ful were  his  friends."  His  appetite  was,  however,  somewhat 
spoiled  one  day.  The  Betsey  was  chased  by  a  large  French 
vessel,  and  shot  at  thrice.  "  We  gave  up  all  for  lost !  We 
were  almost  defenceless.  I  was  dressing  myself  to  receive 
our  visitors.  In  the  mean  time  our  captain  cried,  '  The  dan- 
ger is  over.'  The  Frenchman  turned  about  and  left  us.  In 
the  Channel  we  expect  such  alarms  daily." 

During  the  voyage  he  abridged,  and  endeavoured  to  gospel- 
ize,  Law's  "  Serious  Call  ;  "  and  finished  the  revisal  of  his 
own  journals :  but  he  was  not  allowed  to  preach  on  board. 
This,  he  says,  "  may  spare  my  lungs,  but  it  grieves  my  heart." 
It  seems  he  could  not  write  with  much  composure.  The 
reason  he  assigns  for  this  is-,  "  We  have  four  gentlewomen 
on  board  ;   so  you  may  guess  how  it  is ! " 

His  own  private  review  of  his  sayings,  doings,  and  writings, 
up  to  this  time,  I  have  recorded  in  "  The  Specimens  of 
Whitefield,"  at  the  close  of  this  volume.  It  is  equally  hum- 
ble and  honest;  and  it  led  to  many  improvements  in  his  con- 
duct and  spirit  towards  the  opponents  of  truth  and  godliness. 

The  prospect  of  home  led  him  naturally  to  anticipate  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  his  aged  and  beloved  mother.  He  had 
been  so  long  absent,  and  she  was  so  poor,  that  he  did  not 
know,  when  he  wrote,  where  she  resided.  He  added  to  the 
prayer  for  her,  "  Oh  that  I  may  see  you  laden  with  holiness, 
and  bearing  fruit  in  old  age,"  the  request,  "  Let  me  know 
whether  you  stand  in  need  of  any  thing."  There  was  a  con- 
temporary clergyman  of  notoriety,   Sterne,  who  could  weep 

28* 


330        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

over  a  dead  ass,  and  a  taped  starling,  who  neither  prayed  nor 
felt  for  his  aged  mother,  although  she  was  in  distress :  but 
Sterne  was  a  vit,  not  a  methodist! 

On  his  arrival  in  London,  Whitcfield  was  welcomed  by 
thousands,  with  a  joy  which  well  nigh  overcame  them  and 
himself  too.  One  cause  of  this  joy  was,  that  a  large  church 
was  open  to  him  on  his  return.  It  was  St.  Bartholomew's, 
where  he  had  a  thousand  communicants  on  the  first  Sabbath, 
besides  "  multitudes  flocking  to  hear."  How  different  from 
the  first  reception  he  met  with  on  his  former  return  from 
America.  The  fact  is,  both  he  and  the  Wesleys  were  now 
wiser  men. 

He  was  not,  however,  without  his  cares  on  this  occasion. 
His  outward  affairs  were  "  far  behind  hand."  Antinomianism 
had  "  made  sad  havoc  "  in  the  religious  societies,  during  his 
absence.  "I  came,"  he  says,  "at  a  critical  juncture." 
One  of  the  hyper  party  threatened  to  rival  him  in  Moorfields, 
a  sphere  which  these  zealots  have  seldom  coveted.  A\hite- 
field  sent  him  word — "  The  fields  are  no  doubt  as  free  to  you 
as  to  another.  God  send  you  a  clear  head  and  a  clean  heart, 
I  intend  preaching  there  on  Sunday  evening."  He  did,  and 
found  "  Moorfields  as  white  to  harvest  as  ever."  In  other 
respects  also  he  had  soon  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  "  things 
take  a  good  turn  "  in  London. 

At  this  time  he  renewed  his  intimacy  with  Hervey,  who  was 
now  popular  as  a  writer  ;  and  that  not  undeservedly.  It  has 
been  fashionable,  of  late,  to  denounce  his  florid  style  ;  and  so 
far  as  this  prevents  Hervey  from  becoming  a  model  to  young 
preachers  or  imaginative  writers,  it  is  a  good  fashion.  It  is 
however,  bad,  so  far  as  it  prevents  the  young  from  reading  his 
works,  or  from  yielding  to  their  inspiration.  They  cannot  be 
read  without  interest  by  the  young.  Both  the  "  Meditations  " 
and  "  Theron  and  Aspasio,"  have  an  irresistible  charm  to 
them.  They  lay  hold  upon  the  heart  at  once,  and  are  never 
forgotten. 

The  secret  of  this  fascination  is  their  sympathy  with  visible 
nature,  as  young  eyes  see  it,  and  young  hearts  enjoy  it.  Her- 
vey reflects  the  heavens  and  the  earth  to  them,  in  the  broad 
and  brilliant  forms  which  haunt  their  own  dreams.  Who  does 
not  remember  this  ?  True  ;  we  cease  to  read  Hervey,  and 
learn  to  find  fault  with  his  style  ;  but  which  of  us  would  have 
relished  or  read,  in  early  life,  the  chaster  works  on  piety,  which 
now  charm  us  1     Even  our  taste  for  the  simjjle,  is  the  reaction 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         331 

of  the  gorgeous.  I  owe  this  passing  tribute  to  Hervey.  My 
love  of  nature  was  made  religious  by  him.  And  had  I  never 
tried  to  imitate  him,  I  should  never  have  formed  a  puritanical 
style  for  myself. 

The  second  reformation  in  this  country  owes  much  to 
Hervey.  He  was  the  Melancthon  of  it,  by  his  writings. 
They  suited,  as  Whitefield  says  of  them,  "the  taste  of  the 
polite  world."  They  refined  the  taste  of  the  Methodists 
also.  The  former  read  them,  because  they  were  flowery  ; 
the  latter  because  they  were  savoury.  The  one  looked  at 
grace  through  their  medium,  with  less  prejudice  ;  the  other 
at  nature,  with  more  delight  than  formerly.  Whitefield  saw 
this  twofold  influence  of  Hervey's  works,  and  wisely  said 
nothing  against  their  style,  when  they  were  submitted  to  his 
revision. 

Amongst  all  Whitefield's  converts,  no  one  has  been  more 
useful  than  Hervey  as  a  writer.  That  he  was  one  of  them  is 
certain,  although  seldom  remembered.  In  a  letter  to  White- 
field,  he  says,  "Your  journals  and  sermons,  and  especially 
that  sweet  sermon  on  'What  think  ye  of  Christ  ?'  were  a 
mean  of  bringing  me  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth."  Brown's 
Memoirs  of  Hervey.  This  will  account  for  the  deference  he 
paid  to  his  spiritual  father,  and  for  the  eulogium  he  pronounced 
on  him  at  Doddridge's  :  "  I  never  beheld,"  he  said,  "  so  fair 
a  copy  of  our  Lord  ;  such  a  living  image  of  the  Saviour  ;  such 
exalted  delight  in  God  ;  such  unbounded  benevolence  to  man  ; 
such  steady  faith  in  the  divine  promises  ;  such  fervent  zeal  for 
the  divine  glory;  and  all  this  without  the  least  moroseness  of 
humour,  or  extravagances  of  behaviour  ;  but  sweetened  with 
the  most  engaging  cheerfulness  of  temper,  and  regulated  by 
all  the  sobriety  of  reason  and  wisdom  of  Scripture:  insomuch, 
that  I  cannot  forbear  applying  the  wise  man's  encomium  on  an 
illustrious  woman,  to  this  eminent  minister  of  the  everlasting 
gospel — '  Many  sons  have  done  virtuously,  but  thou  excellest 
them  all.' " 

It  was  not  in  return  for  this  compliment,  but  before  it,  that 
Whitefield  introduced  Hervey's  works  into  America,  and  re- 
joiced in  their  popularity.  "  The  author,"  he  said,  "is  my  old 
friend  ;  a  most  heavenly-minded  creature  ;  one  of  the  first 
Methodists,  who  is  contented  with  a  small  cure,  and  gives  all 
he  has  to  the  poor.  We  correspond  with,  though  we  cannot 
see,  each  other."  Gillies  says,  that  Whitefield  left  a  blank  in 
his  manuscripts  thus, — "  Here  a  character  of  Hervey ;  "  and 


332        whitefield's   life   and  times. 

adds,  "  What  a  pity  he  did  not  write  it  down  !"  Doddridge 
also  was  not  ash;nned  to  preface  a  work  of  Hervey's,  although 
W  arhurton  calls  it  a  weak  rhapsody,  and  said  it  would  degrade 
the  Doctor. 

At  this  time  his  acquaintance  with  the  Countess  of  Hunting- 
don commenced.  She  had  engaged  Howel  Harris  to  bring 
him  to  Chelsea,  "  as  soon  as  he  came  ashore."  He  went  and 
preached  twice  in  her  drawing-room,  in  a  manner  that  deter- 
mined her  to  invite  some  of  the  nobility  to  hear  him. 

As  she  had,  from  this  time,  much  influence  upon  his  future 
movements,  the  following  masterly  sketch  of  her  history  and 
character  will  tell  best  here.  It  is  by  a  descendant  of  Dod- 
dridge, who  hates  Calvinism. 

"  The  Right  Honourable  Selina  Countess  Dowager  of 
Huntingdon,  second  daughter,  and  one  of  the  co-heiresses 
of  Washington,  second  Earl  of  Ferrars,  who  was  born  Au- 
gust 13th,  1707,  and  married  in  the  year  1728,  to  The- 
ophilus  Earl  of  Huntingdon,  by  whom  she  had  issue  four 
sons  and  three  daughters  :  of  these,  only  one,  the  Countess 
of  Moira,  survived  their  mother,  whose  death  occurred  in  1791, 
at  the  age  of  eighty-four,  and  after  a  widowhood  of  forty-five 
years. 

44  Upon  the  decease  of  her  mother,  the  Countess  of  Moira 
received  an  accession  to  her  income  of  fifteen  hundred  pounds 
per  annum,  and  her  son,  Lord  Rawden,  a  bequest  of  two 
thousand  two  hundred  pounds.  Lady  Huntingdon  also  left  an 
annuity  of  a  hundred  a  year  to  her  friend  Lady  Ann  Erskine, 
and  the  sum  of  four  thousand  pounds  to  be  disposed  of  in 
charitable  gifts,  at  the  direction  of  the  Earl  of  Dartmouth, 
Sir  Richard  Hill,  and  her  chaplain,  Mr.  Haws.  The  residue 
of  her  fortune  was  bequeathed  for  the  support  of  sixty-four 
chapels,  which  she  had  contributed  to  establish  throughout 
the  kingdom. 

44  Few  characters  have  been  more  erroneously  estimated 
by  the  world  than  that  of  Lady  Huntingdon.  She  was,  in 
fact,  neither  the  gloomy  fanatic,  the  weak  visionary,  nor  the 
abstracted  devotee,  which  different  parties  have  delighted  to 
paint  her. 

44  The  circumstance  of  her  having  forbade  the  publication 
of  her  papers,  and  her  retired  mode  of  life,  for  even  her 
charities  were  principally  distributed  through  the  medium  of 
her  chaplains,  were  the  causes  which  baffled  the  curiosity  of 
those  who  felt  desirous  of  discovering  the  motives    which 


tvhitefield's   life   and  times.         333 

could  tempt  a  woman  to  resign  the  allurements  of  station, 
and  to  devote,  in  addition  to  what  is  mentioned  in  her  will,  at 
least  a  hundred  thousand  pounds,  given  during  her  life,  for 
the  extension  of  peculiar  religious  opinions,  without  any  view 
towards  that  personal  distinction  which  has  been  too  often  a 
leading  inducement  with  the  founders  of  new  sects. 

"  In  the  absence  of  circumstantial  detail,  all  that  remains 
is  to  collect  the  few  personal  traits  which  are  here  and 
there  accidentally  mentioned,  and  to  unite  them  with  facts 
of  public  notoriety.  Having  thus  combined  these  scattered 
rays,  their  condensed  light  at  once  reveals  the  actual  charac- 
ter of  this  remarkable  woman  ;  and  we  perceive  her  pecu- 
liarities to  have  arisen  from  the  blight  of  domestic  sorrow, 
acting  upon  a  mind  swayed,  to  a  great  extent,  by  the  ima- 
gination, and  therefore,  highly  susceptible  of  religious  im- 
pressions. 

"  In  the  spring  day  of  her  life,  there  was  little  to  distin- 
guish Lady  Huntingdon  from  the  many  charming  and  intelli- 
gent young  women  who  ever  grace  the  courtly  circle  in  which 
she  moved.  She  was  naturally  gay,  and  the  quickness  of 
her  disposition  rendered  her  sprightly  and  amusing;  but  it  does 
not  appear  that  her  gaiety  tended  towards  dissipation,  or  that 
her  conversational  talents  amounted  to  wit.  How  far  her  reli- 
gious education  had  been  attended  to  is  not  indicated,  but 
there  is  no  reason  to  surmise  that  it  was  defective  ;  and  had 
not  her  maternal  and  conjugal  affections  suffered  from  the 
shock  of  family  bereavements,  her  character  would  probably 
have  remained  not  less  worthy,  but  far  less  remarkable,  than  it 
is  at  present. 

"The  loss  of  children,  and  the  death  of  her  lord,  which 
occurred  before  the  charms  of  existence  had  with  her  been 
subdued  by  the  lapse  of  time,  gave  a  blow  to  the  elasticity  of 
her  mind  from  which  it  never  recovered.  When  the  first  pa- 
roxysm of  grief  had  subsided,  her  exhausted  feelings  naturally 
sought  a  refuge  in  devotion  ;  and  it  is  only  to  be  regretted 
that  under  the  melancholy  impressions  of  the  period,  her  mind 
the  more  deeply  imbibed  the  Calvinistic  tenets."  (Not  ex- 
actly !) 

"  An  affecting  incident  shows  that  at  this  time  she  still  re- 
tained the  fond  recollections  of  human  regard  in  all  their 
wonted  intensity.  Lady  Huntingdon  had  a  tine  bust  of  her- 
self placed  upon  the  tomb  of  her  deceased  husband  ;  and  it  is 
but  justice  to  observe,  that  the  widowed  bosom  in  which  his 


334      whitefield's    life    and    times. 

memory  was  enshrined  ever  remained  as  cold  to  earthly  pas- 
sion, as  the  insensible  marble,  whose  gentle  smile,  amid  the 
symbols  of  death,  seemed  eloquent  with  immortality. 

"  For  some  years  the  religious  views  of  Lady  Huatingdon 
were  those  of  the  church  of  England  ;  she  was  pious  and 
benevolent  in  an  eminent  degree,  as  her  letters  in  this  work 
evince,  but  her  sentiments  were  unmarked  by  peculiarity.  As 
might,  however,  have  been  expected,  the  spirit-stirring  elo- 
quence of  Whitefield  caught  her  attention,  and  she  became 
one  of  his  most  determined  proselytes  ;  and,  doubtless,  felt 
delighted  to  obtain  so  important  a  witness  to  a  reality  of  her 
election.  Be  this  as  it  may,  under  his  influence,  although  she 
never  renounced  the  doctrines  of  episcopacy,  yet  she  embra- 
ced sectarian  views  incompatible  with  its  practice  and  well- 
being  ;  she  endowed  chapels,  and  sanctioned  an  independent 
form  of  worship. 

"  Of  the  results  to  which  her  conduct,  in  such  respects,  was 
likely  to  lead,  she  was  doubtless  unconscious,  and,  in  fact, 
acted  from  the  impressions  produced  upon  her  mind  by  the 
interested  parties  around  her.  She  was,  indeed,  so  much  the 
child  of  emotion,  that  she  is  related  to  have  described  herself 
'  as  like  a  ship  before  the  wind,  carried  on  by  an  impulse  she 
could  not  resist  or  describe-' 

"  The  influence  of  Whitefield  and  his  friends  over  the  mind 
of  Lady  Huntingdon,  was  most  apparent  from  the  year  1748, 
when  he  became  her  chaplain.  That  influence  was,  however, 
so  guardedly  employed,  that  the  natural  vigilance  of  her  char- 
acter was  fully  exercised  in  plans  for  the  propagation  of  the 
highly  Calvinistic  ideas  she  had  espoused.  It  was  not  until 
the  year  1 768,  that  she  opened  her  •  college '  near  Talgarth, 
in  South  Wales,  4  for  the  education  of  serious  and  godly 
young  men,  and  such  as  she  believed  had  a  divine  calU  Be- 
sides this  academy,  the  whole  expense  of  which  she  defrayed, 
she  was  deeply  interested  in  the  missionary  schemes  then  in 
motion ;  and  that  she  might  the  better  uphold  the  cause,  re- 
duced her  style  of  living  far  below  what  her  station  in  society 
demanded  ;  and  even  exhausted  her  income  to  such  an  extent, 
that  she  was  not  able  to  afford  charitable  relief  in  some  cases 
of  the  utmost  necessity,  that  were  brought  under  her  notice. 

"  Her  death  occurred  on  the  17th  of  June,  1791,  and  was 
marked  with  the  serenity  of  the  Christian,  and  the  humble 
confidence  of  a  saint.     As  the  awful  moment  was  approach- 


whitefield's    life   and    times.       335 

ing,  she  said,  'My  work  is  done  ;  and  I  have  nothing  to  do 
but  to  go  to  my  Father.'      (This  was  her  Calvinism  !) 

"The  romantic  turn  of  her  feelings  was  as  strongly  marked 
during  her  last  illness,  as  in  any  former  period  of  her  life. 
She  desired  that  her  remains  might  be  dressed  in  the  suit  of 
white  silk  which  she  wore  at  the  opening  of  the  chapel  in 
Goodman's  Fields  ;  and  in  speaking  of  death,  said,  '  It  was 
like  putting  off  her  cloak.'  When  the  blood-vessel  burst, 
which  was  the  commencement  of  her  illness,  on  being  asked 
how  she  did,  by  Lady  Ann  Erskine,  she  observed,  •  I  am 
well — all  is  well — well  for  ever!  I  see,  wherever  I  turn  my 
eyes,  whether  I  live  or  die,  nothing  but  victory.'  And  a  day 
or  so  before  her  decease,  she  remarked,  '  The  Lord  has  been 
present  with  my  spirit  this  morning  in  a  remarkable  manner  : 
what  He  means  to  convey  to  my  mind,  I  know  not ;  it  may 
be  my  approaching  departure.  My  soul  is  filled  with  glory  ; 
I  am  in  the  element  of  heaven.'"     Humphries. 

Such  was  Lady  Huntingdon.  She  soon  brought  around 
Whitefield  some  of  the  stars  of  the  court.  Chesterfield  and 
a  whole  circle  of  them  attended,  and  having  heard  once,  de- 
sired they  might  hear  him  again.  "  I,  therefore,  preached 
again,"  he  says,  "  in  the  evening,  and  went  home,  never  more 
surprised  at  any  thing  in  my  life.  All  behaved  quite  well, 
and  were  in  some  degree  affected.  The  Earl  of  Chesterfield 
thanked  me,  and  said,  '  Sir,  I  shall  not  tell  you  what  I  shall 
tell  others,  how  I  approve  of  you  ; '  or  words  to  this  purpose. 
At  last  Lord  Bolingbroke  came  to  hear  ;  sat  like  an  arch- 
bishop, and  was  pleased  to  say,  I  had  done  great  justice  to 
the  divine  attributes  in  my  discourse.  (Hume  also  was  pre- 
sent.) Soon  afterwards,  her  ladyship  removed  to  town, 
where  I  generally  preached  twice  a  week,  to  very  brilliant  au- 
ditories. Blessed  be  God,  not  without  effectual  success  on 
some."  Gillies.  Bolingbroke  invited  Whitefield  to  visit  him ; 
which  he  did,  and  found  him  both  candid  and  frank.  And  the 
impression  made  upon  him,  may  be  judged  by  his  saying  to 
the  countess,  "  lou  may  command  my  pen  when  you  will.  It 
shall  be  drawn  in  your  service.  For,  admitting  the  Bible  to 
be  true,  I  shall  have  little  apprehension  of  maintaining  the 
doctrines  of  predestination  and  grace,  against  all  your  revil- 
ers."  All  the  nobility  also  accepted,  with  pleasure  and  sur- 
prise, copies  of  Whitefield's  sermons.  On  recording  this,  he 
says,  "  Thus  the  world  turns  round  !  In  all  time  of  wealth, 
good  Lord,  deliver  me."     Lord  Bath  and  others  had  given 


336        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

him  money  for  the  orphan-house.  One  of  the  Prince  of 
Wales's  favourites,  a  privy  counsellor  of  the  king  of  Den- 
mark, and  several  persons  of  rank,  dined  and  drank  tea  with 
him. 

The  manner  in  which  he  refers  to  this  introduction  amongst 
the  great,  has  been  quoted  against  him  as  a  proof  of  vanity. 
Why  should  it  ]  True ;  he  says  in  his  letters  to  Wesley,  and 
other  private  friends,  "  the  noble,  the  mighty,  the  wise,  have 
been  to  hear  me."  These  are  also  the  very  words  which 
Lady  Huntingdon  employed  in  her  letters  to  Doddridge,  at 
the  time.  Was  she  vain  or  flattered,  because  she  rejoiced 
that  a  door  was  opening  for  "  the  nobility  to  hear  the  gospel?  " 
Besides,  this  new  sphere  did  not  divert  him  from  any  of  his 
old  work,  nor  at  all  change  his  spirit  or  purposes.  At  the 
very  crisis  of  this  elevation,  he  said  to  Wesley,  "  My  attach- 
ment to  America  will  not  permit  me  to  abide  long  in  England. 
If  I  formed  societies,  I  should  but  weave  a  Penelope's  web. 
I  intend,  therefore,  to  go  about  preaching  the  gospel  to  every 
creature."    Accordingly,  he  was  off  to  Scotland  in  a  few  days. 

On  his  arrival  at  Edinburgh,  he  found  a  Moor  fields  congre- 
gation, as  to  numbers,  to  welcome  him.  At  Glasgow  also, 
the  prospects  were  still  more  encouraging.  Many  at  both 
places  came  to  inform  him  of  their  conversion,  on  his  former 
visits.  Cambuslang  also  kindled  again.  All  this  was  too 
much  for  some  of  the  kirk  folks,  now  that  the  Seceders  were 
quarrelling  amongst  themselves.  The  synod  of  Glasgow 
and  Ayr  debated  a  motion,  "  tending  to  prohibit  ministers 
from  employing  Whitefield  ;  " — because  he  was  a. priest  of  the 
church  of  England  ;  because  he  had  not  subscribed  the  for' 
mula;  because  the  scheme  of  the  orphan-house  was  chimeri- 
cal, and  the  money  collected  for  it  not  fully  accounted  for! 
The  first  count  in  the  indictment  is  not  so  heavy  now.  Dr. 
Chalmers  is  the  champion  of  the  English  priesthood.  The 
charge  was  better  met,  however,  by  the  clergvman  who  said 
at  the  synod,  "  If  Bishop  Butler,  Sherlock,  or  Seeker,  were 
in  Scotland,  I  should  welcome  them  to  my  pulpit ;  and  in  this, 
I  should  imitate  Rutherford,  as  firm  a  Presbyterian  as  any  of 
us,  who  employed  Usher.  There  is  no  law  of  Christ,  and  no 
act  of  assembly,  prohibiting  me  to  give  my  pulpit  to  any  epis- 
copal, or  anabaptist,  or  independent  minister,  if  of  sound  prin- 
ciples in  the  fundamentals  of  religion.  Our  church  expressly 
enjoins  Art.  13,  that  great  tenderness  is  to  be  used  to  foreign 
Protestants."     Gillies. 


WHITEFI  ELD'S      LIFE     AND      TIMES.  337 

Whitoficld's  personal  character  was  nobly  and  indignantly 
vindicated  by  Dr.  Erskine.  He  appealed  to  the  affidavit  of 
the  magistrates  of  Georgia,  in  the  Philadelphia  Gazette,  in 
proof  of  the  honest  application  of  the  money  collected  for  the 
orphan-house ;  and  cried  shame  upon  Presbyterians,  who 
could  object  to  Whitefield  as  a  "  suspended  minister,"  whilst 
his  only  fault  was,  refusing  to  "  use  the  communion-book  in 
a  prebsyterian  chapel."  The  result  of  the  debate  was,  "  the 
decent  burial  of  the  motion."  It  was,  however,  supported  by 
thirteen.  Twenty-seven  voted  for  employing  Whitefield  in 
the  pulpits  of  the  kirk.  Gillies  says  truly,  "  Upon  the  whole, 
the  attacks  informed  the  synod  of  the  falsehood  of  many 
aspersions  thrown  out  against  him  :  and  thus  what  was  in- 
tended for  his  reproach,  turned  out  to  his  honour." 

Whitefield  himself  says  of  these  conclaves,  "  Two  synods 
and  one  presbytery  brought  me  upon  the  carpet ;  but  all  has 
worked  for  good.  The  more  I  was  blackened,  the  more  the 
Redeemer  comforted  me.  If  my  enemies  show  themselves, 
I  am  persuaded  Jesus  will  bless  me  to  his  people  more  and 
more."  Amongst  the  charges  then  advanced  against  him,  in 
order  to  injure  him  in  the  estimation  of  the  poor,  one  was, 
that  he  was  sent  and  paid  by  government  to  preach  against 
the  Pretender!  This  charge  came  with  an  ill  grace  from  both 
the  Kirk  and  the  Secession.  Both  preached  against  the 
Pretender,  as  much  as  he  did  ;  with  only  this  difference, 
that  the  former  had  pay  and  the  latter  thanks,  while  he  had 
neither. 

It  was,  I  think,  about  this  time,  that  Whitefield  had  another 
interview  with  Ralph  Erskine.  Their  last  was  in  1750.  It 
was  short,  but  affecting.  On  parting,  Erskine  embraced  him 
and  said,  "  We  have  seen  strange  things."  They  had  both 
seen  strange  things  !  Whitefield  had  seen  himself  traduced  by 
ministers  of  a  kirk,  which  had  gladly  played  him  off  against 
the  Secession  :  and  Erskine  had  seen  himself  excluded  by 
the  presbytery  of  Dunfermline,  whilst  his  own  sm,  John,  sat 
in  judgment  upon  him.  It  is  not  true  thit  John  pronounced 
the  sentence  of  excomnunication  on  his  father.  Gibb  did 
that.  It  is,  however,  true,  that  the  good  old  man  said,  "  It 
was  a  sword  piercing  my  heart,  to  see  Johnny  sitting  with 
them."  Erskine  and  Whitefield  might  well  embrace  as 
brethren  after  these  strange  things.  Erskine1  s  TAfc.  This 
reconciliation  went  no  further.  The  other  Seceders  kept  up 
the  old  clamour  against  him,  because  he  did  not  "  preach  up 

29 


338         whitefield's   life   and   times. 

the  covenant ;  "  and  he  gave  his  old  answer,  "  I  preach  up 
the  covenant  of  grace." 

Notwithstanding  all  these  attempts  to  lower  him  in  public 
estimation,  his  old  friends  in  Scotland  stood  by  him.  The 
godly  ministers  not  only  encouraged  his  attempts  to  serve 
the  New  Jersey  college  ;  but  also  entered  into  his  spirited 
(though  imprudent)  design  of  turning  the  orphan-house  into  a 
college. 

On  his  return  to  London,  he  resumed  his  lectures  at  Lady 
Huntingdon's  to  the  "  great  ones,"  as  he  calls  them.  Thirty, 
and  sometimes  sixty,  persons  of  rank  attended,  although  the 
newspapers  were  full  of  "  strange  lying  accounts  "  of  his  re- 
ception in  Scotland.  He  availed  himself  of  this  influence,  to 
forward  his  intended  college :  for  which  his  plea  was, — "  If 
some  such  thing  be  not  done,  I  cannot  see  how  the  southern 
parts  will  be  provided  with  ministers  ;  for  all  are  afraid  to  go 
over."  On  this  ground  he  appealed  to  the  trustees  of 
Georgia;  reminding  them  that  he  had  expended  £5000  upon 
the  orphan-house  ;  begging  them  to  relieve  it,  as  a  charitable 
institution,  from  all  cmit-rent  and  taxes ;  and  especially  to 
allow  him  slaves.  "  White  hands,'"  he  said,  had  left  his  tract 
of  land  uncultivated. 

Whilst  thus  pleading  for  his  own  seminary,  he  did  not  for- 
get New  Jersey.  He  wrote  to  Mr.  PemDerton,  "  If  you  or 
some  other  popular  minister  come  over,  and  make  an  appli- 
cation in  person,  a  collection  might  be  recommended  by  the 
general  assembly,  and  large  contributions  be  raised  from  pri- 
vate persons.  If  one  of  the  Indians  was  brought  over, — 
and  a  proposal  made  to  educate  some  of  the  converted 
Indians  in  the  college, — it  would  certainly  be  of  service." 
Thus  he  had  our  best  missionary  plans,  as  well  as  spirit,  a 
century  ago. 

Having  set  these  schemes  on  foot,  he  went  to  Bristol ; 
and  attended  the  sacrament  at  the  cathedral  next  day.  The 
bishop,  he  says,  "  behaved  respectfully  "  to  him.  He  visit- 
ed also  his  old  tutor,  now  one  of  the  prebendaries,  and  met 
with  the  old  kindness  of  Oxford.  Those  who  have  had  a  kind 
tutor  will  quite  understand  the  following  account  of  the  inter- 
view. "  I  told  him,  that  my  judgment  (as  I  trust)  was  a  little 
more  ripened  than  it  was  some  years  ago ;  and  that  as  fast 
as  I  found  out  my  faults,  1  should  be  glad  to  acknowledge 
them.  He  said,  the  offence  of  the  governors  of  the  church 
would  lessen  and  wear  off,  as  I  grew  moderate."     Whitefield 


whitefield's   life  and   times.         339 

did  not  tell  the  Doctor  how  little  he  cared  for  such  modera- 
tion as  the  governors  of  that  day  required  :  but  he  wrote  to 
Lady  Huntingdon,  on  the  subject  of  their  favour, — "  I  am 
pretty  easy  about  that!  If  I  can  but  act  an  honest  part,  and 
be  kept  from  trimming,  I  leave  all  consequences  to  Him  who 
orders  all  things  well." 

On  his  return  to  London,  he  found  his  assemblies  at  the 
Countess's  "  brilliant  indeed,"  and  Bolingbroke  still  one  in 
them.  It  was  now  winter,  and  some  of  his  noble  friends  from 
Scotland  joined  them.  He  felt  not  only  deep  interest  in 
Bolingbroke,  but  had  much  hope  of  him  at  one  time,  owing 
to  his  declared  satisfaction  with  the  doctrines  of  grace. 
"  Who  knows,"  he  says,  "  what  God  may  do  1  "  If  Boling- 
broke was  hoaxing  Whitefield,  it  is  to  his  everlasting  disgrace. 
If  he  was  not,  it  was  no  small  item  in  his  advantages,  that 
God  gave  him  a  place  in  Whitefield's  heart  and  prayers. 
The  place  he  held  there,  had  proved  the  means  of  salvation 
to  many.  Two  or  three  of  the  nobility  were  won  to  Christ 
at  this  time. 

Still,  they  could  not  keep  him  from  itinerating.  In  a  few 
weeks  he  was  at  Bristol  again.  "  I  long  to  take  the  field"  he 
said  to  the  Countess;  and  he  did  not  take  it  in  vain.  "  There 
was  a  great  stirring  among  the  dry  bones  at  Kingswood  and 
Bristol."  Many  new  converts  were  won.  One  of  them  was 
a  counsellor,  who  was  so  much  affected,  that  his  style  of 
counselling  others  to  hear  Whitefield,  led  his  wife  to  suspect 
him  of  madness. 

At  Plymouth  also,  where  he  had  so  many  enemies  former- 
ly, he  found  a  tabernacle  had  been  built  in  his  absence,  to 
which  he  was  welcomed.  He  became  the  guest  of  a  married 
couple,  who  claimed  him  as  their  spiritual  father.  Plymouth, 
he  says,  "  seems  quite  a  new  place  to  me."  He  was  much 
amused  there  to  learn,  that  he  had  been  called  a  Roman  ca- 
tholic. "  If  I  am  a  Roman  catholic,"  he  said,  "  the  pope 
must  have  given  me  a  large  dispensation." 

The  "  married  couple  "  were  the  Kinsmans;  soon  the  use- 
ful, as  well  as  the  intimate,  friends  of  Whitefield.  Mr.  Kins- 
man became  a  popular  preacher  at  the  Tabernacle  in  London. 
He  preached  the  first  sermon  in  the  present  Tabernacle. 
His  fame  and  success  at  Bristol  were  such  that  Whitefield 
was  in  the  habit  of  calling  Bristol,  "  Kinsman's  America;  " 
in  allusion  to  his  own  foreign  labours.  His  eloquence  also 
must  have  been  considerable,  for  Shuter,  the  comedian,  was 


340  whitefield's    life    and    times. 

fond  of  hearing  him.  Poor  Shuter  once  told  Kinsman  a  sad 
story.  He  had  been  acting  Falstaff  in  London  so  often, 
that  the  physicians  ordered  him  to  Plymouth  for  change  of 
air.  Kinsman  too  had  been  sent  home,  after  a  hard  cam- 
paign at  the  Tabernacle.  Both  had  been  wrought  out. 
"  Had  you  died,"  said  Shuter,  "  it  would  have  been  in  the 
service  of  the  best  of  Masters  ;  but  had  I,  it  would  have  been 
in  the  service  of  the  devil.  O  sir,  do  you  think  I  shall  ever 
be  called  again  ?  I  certainly  was — whilst  studying  my  part  in 
the  park  ;  and  had  Mr.  Whitefield  let  me  come  to  the  sacra- 
ment with  him,  I  never  should  have  gone  back  again.  But 
the  caresses  of  the  great  are  ensnaring.  Poor  things  !  they 
are  unhappy,  and  they  want  Shuter  to  make  them  laugh.  O 
sir,  for  such  a  life  as  yours!  But  when  I  have  you  1  shall  be 
Richard  the  Third  again.  That  is  what  they  call  a  good 
play  ;  as  good  as  some  sermons.  And  there  are  some  strik- 
ing moral  things  in  it.  But,  after  it,  I  shall  come  in  with  my 
farce,  '  A  Dish  of  all  Sorts,'  and  knock  all  that  on  the  head. 
Fine  reformers  we  are  ! " 

It  was  on  Shuter,  as  Ramble,  that  Whitefield  fixed  his  eye 
one  morning  at  Tottenham  Court,  while  inviting  sinners  of 
all  classes  to  Christ,  and  said, — "  And  thou,  poor  Ramble, 
who  hast  long  rambled  from  Him,  come  thou  also.  Oh, 
end  thy  ramblings,  and  come  to  Jesus."  Cornelius  Winter 
says,  "  Shuter  was  exceedingly  struck,  and  coming  unto 
"Whitefield,  said, — '  I  thought  I  should  have  fainted  ;  how 
could  you  serve  me  sol  '  "  At  Plymouth  also,  when  asked 
if  he  was  a  Methodist,  he  said,  "  Mine  is  a  fine  method,  is  it 
not?  A  Methodist!  no;  I  wish  I  was.  If  any  are  right, 
they  are." 

Whitefield  found  in  Plymouth  and  its  neighbourhood  many 
proofs  that  his  former  visit  had  been  very  useful.  Next  to 
the  conversion  of  Kinsman,  no  case  pleased  him  so  much 
as  that  of  a  young  man,  "  now  a  preacher,"  who  had  then 
ascended  a  tree,  to  hear  and  mock.  His  levity  had  drawn 
the  notice  of  Whitefield,  who  exclaimed,  "  Come  down,  Zac- 
cheus,  come  down,  and  receive  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
The  word  was  backed  with  power.  He  heard,  came  down, 
believed,  and  now  adorns  the  gospel."  Letter  to  Lady 
Huntingdon. 

He  had  also  the  pleasure,  at  this  time,  to  administer  the 
sacrament  to  a  whole  family,  "  who  had  no  pastor."  "  It 
was  an  affecting  sight,"  he  says  ; — "  two  parents  presenting 


wiiitefield's  life   and  times.         341 

two  daughters   and  a   son,   in  the  most  solemn  manner,  for 
the  first  time,  to  be  communicants.     I  received  them  all  with 

It  was  not  all  sunshine,  however,  in  Devonshire,  He  was 
rudely  treated  at  Tavistock.  The  rabble  brought  a  bull  and 
dogs,  and  created  much  disturbance  whilst  he  was  praying. 
He  managed,  however,  to  preach  down  the  uproar.  At  Exe- 
ter, also,  a  man  came  prepared  to  knock  him  on  the  head  with 
a  stone,  whenever  the  sermon  should  furnish  an  offensive  ex- 
pression. He  stood  with  the  stone  in  his  hand.  He  could 
find  no  fault.  The  sermon  soon  interested  him  so,  that  the 
stone  dropped  from  his  hand.  Then  his  heart  melted.  After 
the  service  he  went  to  Whitefield,  and  said  with  tears,  "  Sir, 
I  came  to  break  your  head ;  but  God  has  given  me  a  broken 
heart." 

Whitefield  now  returned  to  London,  in  high  health,  after  an 
itineracy  in  the  westoftiOO  miles.  He  came  back,  however, 
"  with  a  kind  of  fear  and  trembling,"  lest  his  health  should 
break  down  in  the  city,  and  thus  unfit  him  "  to  speak  to  the 
great  and  the  noble,  so  as  to  win  them  to  Jesus."  But  he 
soon  rid  himself  of  this  fear,  by  his  old  maxim,  "  I  throw  my- 
self blindfold  into  my  Master's  hands."  The  bishop  of  Ex- 
eter's pamphlet,  also,  "  The  Enthusiasm  of  the  Methodists 
and  Papists  compared,"  came  out  at  this  time,  and  created  a 
stir,  which  helped  him  to  forget  his  fears.  He  began  imme- 
diately to  answer  it,  and  made  greater  efforts  than  ever  to 
ingratiate  the  truth  with  the  aristocracy.  But  this  kind  of 
work  did  not  suit  him. 

He  was  equally  out  of  his  element  at  his  own  desk,  and  in 
Lady  Huntingdon's  drawing-room.  Accordingly,  in  a  month, 
he  was  too  ill  to  hold  a  pen.  He  therefore  started  off 
on  a  new  itineracy  ;  and,  by  the  time  he  reached  Ports- 
mouth, he  was  himself  again.  The  night  after  his  arrival  he 
preached  to  many  thousands  ;  and  with  such  power,  in  spite 
of  disturbance,  that  the  chief  opposer  was  conquered,  and 
received  him  into  his  house  with  tears  of  shame  and  joy.  In- 
deed, many  who,  a  few  days  before,  had  been  speaking  all 
manner  of  evil  of  him,  were  soon  urgent  with  him  to  prolong 
his  visit.  But  Wales  was  waiting  for  him,  and  he  could  not 
stay  long. 

In  the  Principality  he  had  soon  the  pleasure,  as  in  the  days 
of  old,  to  see  "  Jesus  riding  on  in  the  chariot  of  the  everlasting 
gospel."     He  now  found  all  towns  open,  and  all  justices  and 

29» 


342        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

magistrates  civil.  On  some  occasions  his  audience  amounted 
to  twenty  thousand  persons.  He  himself  computed  the 
whole  number  he  addressed,  in  eight  Welsh  counties,  at  more 
than  a  hundred  thousand  ;  and  adds,  "  I  think  we  have  not 
had  one  dry  meeting."'  So  complete  was  his  ascendancy  in 
Wales  now,  that  "  not  a  dog  stirred  a  tongue,"  during  his 
circuit  of  eight  huudred  miles.  From  this  vantage  ground, 
he  made  a  powerful  appeal  to  Hervey,  in  the  hope  of  draw- 
ing him  into  the  fields.  "  Had  you  seen  the  simplicity  of  so 
many  dear  souls,  I  am  persuaded  you  would  have  said. 
Sit  anima  men  cum  methodistis."  But  Hervey  was  too  weak 
for  field  work.  Whitefield  himself  broke  down  after  this 
mighty  effort,  and  was  for  some  days  at  "  the  gates  of  the 
grave." 

He  returned  to  London  to  welcome  his  w  ife  home  from  Ber- 
mudas. On  his  arrival  he  learned  that  his  character  had  been 
aspersed  in  the  island  by  one  of  the  clergy.  But  whilst  he  did 
not  overlook  this  calumny  altogether,  he  merely  sent  out  the 
following  answer  ;  "  I  am  content  to  wait  till  the  day  of  judg- 
ment for  the  clearing  up  of  my  character  ;  and  after  I  am 
dead,  I  desire  no  other  epitaph  than  this, — Here  lies  George 
Whitefield.  What  sort  of  a  man  he  was,  the  great  day  wdl 
discover."  He  then  arranged  his  London  affairs,  and  started 
again  for  the  fields. 

On  his  arrival  at  Bristol,  he  was  told  that  the  bishop  of  W. 
(Well  ?)  had  charged  him  with  perjury  at  the  pump-rooms. 
The  bishop  had  not,  however,  used  the  word  perjury.  He  had 
only  left  others  to  give  a  name  to  his  picture  of  violated  ordi- 
nation vows.  Indeed,  the  question  had  a.  parliamentary  set- 
tlement on  both  sides.  Whitefield  said,  that  he  vowed  to 
obey  only  "godly  admonitions."  And  the  bishop  meant 
"nothing  personal." 

In  a  few  days  after,  Whitefield  set  out  for  Exeter,  by  way 
of  Wellington.  At  this  time  he  does  not  appear  to  have 
known  Darracott,  whom  he  afterwards  designated — "  The 
Star  of  the  West  ;  "  transferring  the  title  from  its  first  owner, 
Hieron.  Indeed,  he  would  have  rode  through  Wellington 
without  stopping,  had  not  a  woman  recognized  him  in  the 
street.  She  implored  him  to  alight,  and  give  the  people  a 
sermon.  When  he  complied,  she  soon  spread  the  news,  and 
a  "great  company"  came  to  hear  him.  He  was  so  pleased, 
that  he  preached  next  day  to  a  still  larger  audience.     It  does 


whitefield' s    life    and    times.       343 

not  appear  that  Darracott  attended  either  sermon.  He  made 
ample  amends,  however,  afterwards. 

One  reason  of  Whitefield'a  visit  to  the  west  at  this  time 
was,  (although,  perhaps,  he  hardly  acknowledged  it  to  him- 
self) to  see  how  his  letter  to  the  bishop  of  Exeter  had  been 
received.  He  found  in  his  own  circle  there,  that  it  had  been 
"much  blessed."  He  learned,  also,  that  "  my  lord  of  Ex- 
eter had  said,  he  wrote  like  an  honest  man,  and  has  recanted 
several  things  ;  "  but,  added  Lavington,  "  he  goes  on  in  the 
same  way  yet."  He  did.  He  went  to  Exeter,  and  appeared 
in  the  fields  again.  The  bishop  therefore  threatened  another 
pamphlet.  Lavington  could  do  more  against  the  Methodists 
than  write.  About  this  time  he  threatened  to  strip  the  gown 
from  one  of  his  own  clergy,  who  was  Methodistical,  and  coun- 
tenanced Whitefield.  The  bishop  was  saved  the  trouble. 
That  moment  the  clergyman  stripped  himself,  saying,  "  I  can 
preach  the  gospel  without  a  gown ;  "  and  retired.  Lavington 
was  then  glad  to  "  send  for  him,  and  soothe  him  : "  but  he  in- 
demnified himself  for  this  condescension,  by  publishing,  im- 
mediately, the  second  part  of  his  "  Enthusiasm  compared." 
Whitefield  had  good  reason,  as  well  as  great  provocation,  to 
say  of  both  parts,  "  The  bishop  has  served  the  Methodists  as 
the  bishop  of  Constance  served  John  Huss,  when  he  ordered 
painted  devils  to  be  put  round  his  head,  before  burning  him." 
He  did  not  answer  him.  He  did  better.  He  went  to  Ex- 
eter, accompanied  by  a  rural  dean,  to  preach  the  gospel  as 
usual  ;  and  divine  influence  accompanied  the  word  "  This," 
he  says,  "is,  I  think, the  best  way  to  answer  those  who  oppose 
themselves."  He  preached  there  twice  on  the  same  day.  In 
the  evening  the  bishop  and  several  of  his  clergy  stood  near  to 
him,  and  saw  ten  thousand  people  awe-struck  by  his  appeals. 
They  saw  also  three  large  stones  thrown  at  his  head,  in  suc- 
cession, by  a  furious  drunkard, — one  of  which  cut  him  deeply; 
but  neither  the  high-priest  nor  his  Levites  interfered,  although 
one  of  their  own  parishioners  also  was  felled  to  the  ground  at 
the  same  time.     Letter  to  Lady  H. 

Next  week  he  returned  to  London,  and  found  some  of  the 
pious  peeresses  waiting  to  receive  the  sacrament  from  him. 
He  spent  a  few  days  at  home,  and  then  started  off  for  York- 
shire. There  he  visited  Grimshair,  at  Haworth,  aad  admin- 
istered the  sacrament  to  above  a  thousand  communicants  in 
the  church.  When  he  preached,  the  churchyard  was  crowd- 
ed.    On  a  future  occasion,  when  preaching  in  the  church,  he 


314        whttefield's    life    and    times. 

had  such  a  high  opinion  of  the  pastor,  that  he  took  for  granted 
the  piety  of  the  flock.  "  No,  no,  sir  !  "  said  good  Grimshaw 
aloud,  M  the  half  of  them  are  not  converted  by  the  grace  of 
God.  Speak  to  them  faithfully."  It  is  easy  to  conceive  the 
effect  of  such  an  appeal  on  Whitefield.  It  was  just  the  kind 
and  manner  of  appeal,  to  set  him  on  fire.  It  would  have  dis- 
concerted almost  any  other  man  ;  but  it  was  vantage  ground 
to  him. 

He  went  from  Haworth  to  Leeds,  at  the  invitation,  he 
says,  "  of  one  of  Mr.  Wesley's  preachers,  and  by  all  his  peo- 
ple." He  was  also  introduced  into  their  pulpit  at  Newcastle  , 
by  Charles  Wesley,  who,  meeting  him  by  the  way,  turned 
back  to  accompany  him.  This  gratified  him  so  much, 
that  he  preached  four  times  in  their  rooms  at  Newcastle : 
but  he  was  obliged,  at  last,  to  go  into  the  open  air,  to  meet 
the  crowds.  At  Leeds,  both  the  crowds  and  the  commo- 
tion were  immense.  So  much  so,  that  he  returned  back 
upon  it,  after  visiting  some  other  parts  of  Yorkshire  and  Lan- 
cashire. 

During  this  tour,  he  won  to  Christ  many  of  the  men,  who 
laid  the  foundations  of  not  a  few  of  the  flourishing  churches  in 
these  counties.  He  met,  however,  with  as  much  "  rude  treat- 
ment, here  and  there  in  both,  as  sent  him  home  praying, 
"Lord,  give  me  a  pilgrim  heart,  for  my  pilgrim  life." 

On  his  arrival  in  London,  he  found  many  urgent  invitations 
awaiting  him  from  Ireland  ;  and  the  Cork  riots  had  awakened 
his  sympathies  for  the  sufferers;  but  although  he  used  his 
influence  on  their  behalf  with  the  great,  and  sent  them  word 
of  this,  he  was  afraid  lest  a  visit  might  be  deemed  an  in- 
trusion upon  the  Wesleyan  sphere.  Besides,  the  primate  of 
Ireland  wished  to  give  him  preferment ;  a  thing  he  did  not 
wish  for. 

He  was  now  "in  winter  quarters  ;  "  but  was  not  idle  nor 
useless.  To  use  his  own  words,  "  the  glory  of  the  Lord  filled 
the  tabernacle,  and  the  shout  of  a  King  was  in  the  camp,"  from 
week  to  week.  "  Thousands,  thousands,  crowded  to  hear." 
Every  day,  also,  he  heard  of  instances  of  conversion.  One 
instance  pleased  him  very  much.  It  was  that  of  a  boatswain, 
who,  before  hearing  him,  knew  no  more  about  divine  truth, 
"  than  the  whistle  he  blew  on  board."  He  particularizes  also 
a  boy  of  eleven  years  of  age,  a  woman  of  eighty,  and  a  baker, 
who  had  been  u  a  Jerusalem  sinner." 

At  this  time,  his  intended  college  occupied  much  of  his  at- 


whitefield's   li.'fe   and  times.         345 

tention.  He  wrote  in  all  directions,  in  order  to  make  friends 
to  the  plan.  His  usual  appeal  was,  "We  propose  having  an 
academy  or  college  at  the  orphan-house.  The  house  is  large ; 
it  will  hold  a  hundred.  My  heart,  I  trust,  is  larger,  and  will 
hold  ten  thousand." 

Still,  his  heart  was  in  America.  London  did  not,  he  says, 
"agree  with  his  outward  man."  "Ranging  seems  my  pro- 
vince ;  and  methinks  I  hear  a  voice  hehind  me  saying,  This 
is  the  way,  walk  in  it.  My  heart  echoes  back,  Lord,  let  thy 
presence  go  along  with  me,  and  then  send  me  where  thou 
pleasest."  That  America  would  have  pleased  himself  best, 
is  evident  from  the  following  apostrophe,  "  In  the  midst  of  all, 
America,  dear  America !  is  not  forgotten.  I  begin  to  count 
the  days,  and  to  say  to  the  months,  'Fly  fast  away,  that  I 
may  spread  the  gospel  net  once  more  in  dear  America ! '" 
This  is  delightful.  It  must  be  gratifying  to  American  Chris- 
tians to  be  thus  reminded  of  the  place  which  their  country 
held  in  Whitefield's  heart  a  century  ago.  It  is  gratifying  to 
me  to  tell  them,  that  we  did  not  learn  from  Whitefield,  but 
from  the  revivals  and  missionary  spirit  in  their  own  churches, 
to  say,  "America,  dear  America."  When  will  they  fulfil  our 
joy,  and  be  likeminded  with  us  on  the  subject  of  slavery  ? 
Surely  no  one  will  quote  Whitefield  against  us ! 

Another  object  lay  near  to  Whitefield's  heart.  It  was  du- 
ring this  winter's  quarters,  that  he  formed  the  design  of  iden- 
tifying Lady  Huntingdon  with  his  societies — the  only  plan  he 
ever  laid  for  perpetuating  them.  He  saw  her  a  Dorcas,  at 
"  that  dead  place  " — Ashby  Place,  and  felt  that  she  might  and 
ought  to  be  a  Phosbe.  She  had  used  her  influence,  at  his  so- 
licitation, with  the  court  and  the  government,  on  behalf  of  the 
sufferers  in  the  Cork  riots  ;  and  had  readily  patronized  such 
poor  or  persecuted  ministers,  as  he  brought  under  her  notice. 
All  this,  and  the  want  of  a  leader,  led  him  to  seek  her  patron- 
age, especially  for  his  societies  in  the  west  end  of  the  town. 

How  he  opened  the  subject  to  her,  I  have  been  unable  to 
discover.  It  does  not  seem,  however,  to  have  been  ill  receiv- 
ed :  for  she  desired  the  public  prayers  of  the  Tabernacle  for 
herself  at  the  time  ; — (not,  of  course,  in  reference  to  this  mat- 
ter :) — and  Whitefield  read  that  part  of  her  letter  to  the  people, 
and  informed  her,  that  "  thousands  heartily  joined  in  singing 
the  following  verses  for  her  ladyship  :  " 


346        whitefield's    life    and    times. 

"Gladly  we  join  to  pray  for  those 
Who  rich  wiih  worldly  honour  shine, 
Who  dare  to  own  a  Saviour's  cause, 
And  in  that  hated  cause  to  join  : 
Yes,  we  would  praise  Thee,  that  a  few 
Love  Thee,  though  rich  and  noble  too. 

"Uphold  this  star  in  thy  right  hand, 
Crown  her  endeavours  with  success  ; 
Among  the  great  ones  may  she  stand, 
A  witness  of  thy  righteousness, 
Till  many  nobles  join  thy  train, 
And  triumph  in  the  Lamb  that's  slain." 

All  this  was  in  a  bad  taste  on  both  sides,  however  well 
meant  or  meekly  taken.  In  the  same  letter,  he  said  to  her, 
"  A  leader  is  wanting.  This  honour  hath  been  put  upon  your 
ladyship  by  the  great  Head  of  the  church  :  an  honour  confer- 
red on  few  ;  but  an  earnest  of  one  to  be  put  on  your  ladyship 
before  men  and  angels,  when  time  shall  be  no  more.  That 
you  may  every  day  add  to  the  splendour  of  your  future  crown, 
by  always  abounding  in  the  work  of  the  Lord,  is  the  fervent 
prayer  of ." 

How  much  "  leader  "  means  in  this  document,  or  how  far, 
if  at  all,  it  refers  to  the  Tabernacle,  I  cannot  judge. 

In  the  midst  of  all  these  attentions  from  and  to  nobility, 
Whitefield  did  not  forget  nor  overlook  his  aged  mother.  A 
woman  had  neglected  to  procure  for  him  some  things  he  had 
ordered  for  her.  A  week's  delay  was  thus  occasioned.  The 
moment  he  discovered  this,  he  wrote,  "I  should  never  for- 
give myself,  was  I,  by  negligence  or  any  wrong  conduct,  to 
give  you  a  moment's  needless  pain.  Alas,  how  little  I  have 
done  for  you.  Christ's  care  for  his  mother  excites  me  to 
wish  I  could  do  any  thing  for  you.  If  you  would  have  any 
thing  more  brought,  pray  write,  honoured  mother  !  " 

On  this  occasion  he  reminded  her  of  his  age.  "To-mor- 
row, it  will  be  thirty-Jive  years  since  you  brought  unworthy 
me  into  the  world.  Oh  that  my  head  were  waters,  and  mine 
eyes  fountains  of  tears,  that  I  might  bewail  my  barrenness 
and  unfruitfulness  in  the  church  of  God."  About  the  same 
time  he  wrote  thus  to  Lady  Huntingdon,  "Next  Saturday  I 
am  thirty -five  years  old :  I  am  ashamed  to  think  how  little  I 
do  or  suffer  for  Christ.     Fyt  upon  me,  fye  upon  me  ! " 

These  anecdotes  are,  I  know,  little;  but  they  reveal  much 
of  Whitefield's  real  character  :  and  surely  his  deep  self-abase- 


whitefield's  life   and   times.         317 

ment  before  God,  may  he  allowed  to  balance  his  self-compla- 
cency in  the  patronage  of  the  countess  and  her  "elect  ladies." 
J  lis  compliments  to  them  admit  of  no  excuse.  They  are  al- 
most as  many  and  fulsome,  as  the  flatteries  which  used  to  be 
addressed  to  the  royal  and  noble  patrons  of  Bible  Societies. 
Those  who  remember  that  incense,  and  the  assemblies  which 
offered  it,  will  hardly  wonder,  however  much  they  deplore, 
that  a  poor  Methodist  burnt  more  incense  to  rank,  than  was 
wise  or  seemly.  Whitefield  was  not  constitutionally  humble, 
bold,  or  unambitious.  It  took  "  twice  seven  years  "  of 
"  pretty  close  intimacy  with  contempt,''''  he  says,  to  make  con- 
tempt an  agreeable  companion"  to  him.  Like  Paul,  he  had 
to  learn  contentment.  "  I  did  not  like  to  part  with  my  pretty 
character  at  first.  It  was  death  to  be  despised  ;  and  worse 
than  death  to  think  of  being  laughed  at  by  all.  God  knows 
how  to  train  us  up  gradually  for  the  war.  He  often  makes 
me  bold  as  a  lion  ;  but  I  believe  there  is  not  a  person  living 
more  timorous  by  nature.  I  find,  a  love  of  power  sometimes 
intoxicates  even  God's  dear  children.  It  is  much  easier  for 
me  to  obey  than  govern.  This  makes  me  fly  from  that  which, 
at  our  first  setting  out,  we  are  too  apt  to  court.  I  cannot  well 
buy  humility  at  too  dear  a  rate."     Letters. 

At  this  time,  Whitefield  was  not  unknown  at  court,  nor  his 
elect  ladies  unnoticed  by  the  king.  On  one  occasion,  Lady 
Chesterfield  appeared  in  a  dress,  "  with  a  brown  ground  and 
silver  flowers,"  of  foreign  manufacture.  The  king  came  up 
to  her,  smiling  significantly.  He  then  laughed  aloud,  and 
said, — "I  know  who  chose  that  gown  for  you, — Mr.  White- 
field  ;  I  hear  you  have  attended  on  him  for  a  year  and  a  half." 
Her  ladyship  confessed  she  had,  and  avowed  her  approbation 
of  him.  She  also  regretted  deeply  afterwards,  that  she  had 
not  said  more  whilst  she  had  such  an  opportunity.  The  se- 
cretary of  state  also  assured  him,  that  "  no  hurt  was  designed 
by  the  state  "  to  the  Methodists.  He  had  gone  to  the  secre- 
tary, accompanied  by  a  dissenting  minister,  Mr.  G.  (query 
Dr.  Giftbrd  ?)  to  "  open  the  case"  of  the  Irish  brethren.  The 
outrages  committed  upon  them,  brought  him  nearer  to  the  dis- 
senters and  the  Wesleyans.  They  had  now  a  common  cause. 
Accordingly,  he  was  invited  to  preach  in  the  Wesleyan  cha- 
pel. Mr.  Wesley  read  the  prayers  for  him ;  and  next  time 
Whitefield  read  them,  before  Mr.  Wesley  preached,  and  then 
united  with  him  in  administering  the  sacrament.  This  delight- 
ed him  much.     "  Oh,  forlove  and  gratitude !  "  he  exclaims, — 


348     whitefield's    life    and    times. 

"  I  have  now  preached  thrice  in  Mr.  Wesley's  chapel,  and  God 
was  with  us  of  a  truth." 

He  was  now  tired  of  London,  and  relapsing  into  his  old 
complaints.  The  fact  is,  he  had  grown  field-sick  ;  for  that 
was  his  home-sickness.  Accordingly,  he  started  for  the  west 
of  England  again,  and  although  rain  and  hail  pelted  him  in  his 
field  pulpits,  he  preached  u  about  twenty  times  in  eight  or  nine 
days."  The  moment  he  was  in  his  own  element,  he  saw 
every  thing  in  his  old  lights.  Hence  he  says,  "  Every  thing 
I  meet  with  seems  to  carry  this  voice  with  it, — '  Go  thou  and 
preach  the  gospel ;  be  a  pilgrim  on  earth  ;  have  no  party  or 
certain  dwelling-place.'  My  heart  echoes  back,  Lord  Jesus, 
help  me  to  do  or  suffer  thy  will.  When  thou  seest  me  in  dan- 
ger of  nestling, — in  pity — in  tender  pity, — put  a  thorn  in  my 
nest,  to  prevent  me  from  it." 

Whilst  at  Bristol,  Charles  Wesley  talked  with  him  about 
preaching  in  the  new  Wesleyan  room  ;  but  it  does  not  appear 
to  have  been  much  desired.  Accordingly,  Whitefield  says, 
*'  /  said  but  little."  He  found,  however,  a  larger  sphere. 
He  was  allowed  to  preach  from  the  window  of  Smith's  Hall, 
and  thus  many  thousands  heard  him. 

From  Bristol  he  went  to  Wellington,  and  became  the  wel- 
come guest  of  Darracott,  whom  he  calls  "  a  flaming  and  suc- 
cessful preacher  of  the  gospel."  Good  Darracott  had  just 
lost  three  lovely  children.  Two  of  them  had  died  "  on  the 
Saturday  evening  before  the  sacrament :  but,"  says  White- 
field,  "  weeping  did  not  prevent  sowing.  He  preached  the 
next  day,  and  administered  as  usual.  Our  Lord  strengthened 
him  ;  and,  for  his  three  natural,  gave  him  above  thirty  spirit- 
ual, children ;  and  he  is  likely  to  have  many  more.  He  has 
ventured  his  little  all  for  Christ :  and,  last  week,  a  saint  died 
who  left  him  and  his  heirs  £200  in  land.  Did  ever  any  one 
trust  in  God,  and  was  forsaken  1 " 

This  interview  with  Darracott,  who  had  also  suffered  much 
reproach  in  the  service  of  Christ,  and  an  interview  with  Pear- 
sail  of  Taunton,  who  had  been  a  preacher  of  righteousness 
before  Whitefield  was  born,  had  an  inspiring  influence  upon 
him.  "  I  began  to  take  the  field  again  at  his  dwelling,"  he 
says,  "  for  the  spring !  I  begin  to  begin  to  spend  and  be  spent 
for  Him  who  shed  his  own  dear  heart's  blood  for  me.  He 
makes  ranging  exceedingly  pleasant.  I  want  more  tongues, 
more  bodies,  more  souls  for  the  Lord  Jesus.  Had  I  ten  thou- 
sand,— He  should  have  them  all."     In  this  state  of  mind  he 


whitefield's   life   and  times.  349 

visited  many  parts  of  Devonshire  and  Cornwall.  At  Gwinnop, 
he  preaehed  to  a  large  audience,  although  the  Clergyman  had 
preached  a  virulent  sermon  against  him  in  the  morning.  This 
worthy  had  said  on  Saturday,  "  Now  Whitefield  is  coming — I 
must  put  on  my  old  armour."  He  did.  Whitefield  says,  "It  did 
but  little  execution,  because  not  Scripture-proof ;  consequent- 
ly, not  out  of  God's  armoury.  I  preached  to  many  thou- 
sands. The  rain  dropped  gently  upon  our  bodies,  and  the 
grace  of  God  seemed  to  fall  like  a  gentle  dew,  sprinkling 
rain  upon  our  souls.''  Thus  in  Cornwall,  "  an  unthought-of 
and  unexpectedly  wide  door  "  was  opened.  He  preached  in 
many  churches,  and  the  power  of  God  came  down  so,  that 
even  the  ministers  were  overcome.  Such  was  the  flying  of 
doves  to  their  windows  there,  that  he  ceased  for  a  time  to 
long  for  the  wings  of  a  dove  to  flee  away  to  America. 

He  returned  to  London  much  improved  in  health  and  spi- 
rits ;  and,  having  rested  a  few  days,  he  visited  Doddridge  and 
Hervey,  in  order  to  promote  a  public  subscription  for  the  New 
Jersey  college.  Doddridge  entered  warmly  into  the  plan ; 
nobly  hazarding  all  the  consequences  of  associating  with  the 
man  whom  the  Coward  trust  despised.  Whitefield  appreci- 
ated his  kindness :  "  I  thank  you  a  thousand  times,"  he  says, 
*'  for  your  kindness,  and  assure  you  it  is  reciprocal.  Gladly 
shall  I  call  upon  you  again  at  Northampton."  In  this  letter, 
he  informed  the  Doctor,  that  Lady  Huntingdon  was  to  write 
to  him  that  night,  and  thus  playfully  prepared  him  for  the 
news  :  "  She  is  strange.ly  employed  now.  Can  you  guess  ? 
The  kind  people  of  Ashby  stirred  up  some  of  the  baser  sort 
to  riot  before  her  ladyship's  door,  whilst  the  gospel  was 
preaching.  Some  of  the  people  narrowly  escaped  being  mur- 
dered in  their  way  home.  The  justice  has  ordered  to  bring 
the  offenders  before  him."  To  her  ladyship  he  said  on  this 
occasion,  "  I  trust  you  will  live  to  see  many  of  these  Ashby 
stones  become  children  to  Abraham." 

Soon  after  this,  he  went  again  into  Yorkshire.  At  Rcther- 
ham,  he  says,  "  Satan  rallied  his  forces.  The  crier  was  em- 
ployed to  give  notice  of  a  bear-baiting.  You  may  guess  who 
was  the  bear!  However,  I  preached  twice.  The  drum  was 
heard,  and  several  watermen  attended  with  great  staves.  The 
constable  was  struck,  and  two  of  the  mobbers  apprehended, 
but  rescued  afterwards.  But  all  this  does  not  come  up  to  the 
kind  usage  of  the  people  of  Ashby!  "  Sheffield  and  Leeds, 
he  found  to  be  a  new  and  warmer  climate.  Lancashire,  how- 
30 


360        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

ever,  he  still  found  to  be  but  cold  to  him.  All  was  quiet  at 
Manchester,  and  he  humbly  hoped  "some  had  enlisted;" 
but  no  great  impression  was  made,  although  thousands  at- 
tended. Liverpool  he  did  not  visit,  at  this  time.  At  Bolton, 
a  drunkard  stood  up  to  preach  behind  him  ;  and  the  wife  of 
the  person  who  lent  him  the  field,  twice  attempted  to  stab 
the  workman  who  put  up  the  stand  for  him.  This  roused 
him,  and  he  bore  down  all  opposition  by  a  torrent  of  elo- 
quence, which  quite  exhausted  him.  In  the  night,  however, 
some  of  the  Bultoncrs  got  into  the  barn  and  stables  where  his 
chaise  and  horses  were  put  up,  and  cut  both  shamefully.  This 
he  called,  u  Satan  showing  his  teeth." 

From  this  quarter,  he  went  into  Cumberland ;  new  ground 
to  him.  At  Kendal,  "  such  entrance  was  made  as  could  not 
have  been  expected."  The  impression  was  so  great  under 
his  first  sermon,  that  he  could  not  forget  it  when  he  left,  and 
therefore  he  returned  to  confirm  "  the  souls  of  the  disciples." 
At  Ulverston,  also  much  good  was  done.  "  There,"  he  says, 
M  Satan  made  some  small  resistance :  a  clergyman,  who 
looked  more  like  a  butcher  than  a  minister,  came  with  two 
others,  and  charged  a  constable  with  me.  But  I  never  saw  a 
poor  creature  sent  off  in  such  disgrace." 

Further  particulars  of  this  northern  itineracy  would  only 
present  similar  alternations  of  insult  and  success.  He  preach- 
ed "  above  ninety  times,  and  to  a  hundred  and  forty  thousand 
people,"  on  this  route  from  London  to  Edinburgh,  where  he 
arrived  in  the  beginning  of  July. 

"  He  was  received,"  says  Gillies,  "  as  usual,  in  the  most 
tender  and  loving  manner  ;  preaching  generally  twice  a  day 
to  great  multitudes,  whose  seriousness  and  earnest  desire  to 
hear  him,  made  him  exert  himself  beyond  his  strength." 
"  By  preaching  always  twice,"  he  says,  "  and  once  thrice, 
and  once  four  times,  in  a  day,  I  am  quite  weakened  ;  but  I 
hope  to  recruit  again.  I  am  burning  with  a  fever,  and  have 
a  violent  cold  ;  but  Christ's  presence  makes  me  smile  at  pain, 
and  the  fire  of  His  love  burns  up  all  fevers  whatsoever." 

Whitefield's  own  estimate  of  this  visit  to  Scotland,  was  very 
high.  He  says,  "  I  shall  have  reason  to  all  eternity  to  bless 
God  for  it.  1  have  reason  to  think  that  many  are  under  con- 
victions, and  am  assured  of  hundreds  having  received  great 
benefit  and  consolation.  Not  a  dog  moved  his  tongue  all  the 
while  I  was  there,  and  many  enemies  were  glad  to  be  at  peace 
with  me.     Oh  that  I  may  spring  afresh! " 


WHITEFIELD'S      LIFE     AND     TIMES.  351 

On  his  return  to  London,  he  was  received  with  great  joy 
both  at  the  Tabernacle  and  West-street.  During  his  stay, 
Hervey  came  up  on  a  visit,  and  resided  with  him,  and  Wesley 
met  with  them  occasionally.  As  may  be  supposed,  they  had 
much  "  sweet  fellowship."  But  even  that  could  not  divert 
him  from  the  fields  long.  It  was  now  autumn ;  and,  there- 
fore, he  resolved  to  work  hard  before  going  into  winter  quar- 
ters. Chatham  owes  much  to  this  resolution  !  The  awaken- 
ing produced  by  his  visit  he  calls  "  as  promising  a  work  as  in 
almost  any  part  of  England."  It  re-acted  also  upon  Sheer- 
ness.  There  a  few  pious  people  won  the  confidence  of  good 
Shrubsole,  and  drew  him  on  step  by  step  to  read  and  pray 
amongst  them,  until  he  became  a  minister,  although  without 
relinquishing  his  office  in  the  dock-yard.  In  reference  to 
this,  he  said,  "  I  am  accounted  a  phenomenon,  there  never 
having  been  a  preaching  master  mast-maker  before.  How- 
ever, I  know  there  has  been  a  preaching  Carpenter,  of  the 
most  exalted  rank,  and  this  blessed  person  I  am  resolved,  by 
the  grace  of  God,  to  imitate  while  I  live."  He  did  Mr. 
Shrubsole  wrote  a  "  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  in  which  he  has 
drawn  the  character  of  Whitefield  with  great  accuracy,  and 
sustained  it  with  much  effect,  under  the  name,  Fervidus. 
He  wrote  also  an  elegy  on  Whitefield's  death,  quite  equal  to 
any  thing  of  the  kind  which  appeared  on  that  occasion.  Hi9 
"  Pilgrim,  or  Christian  Memoirs,"  presents,  perhaps,  a  fairer 
and  fuller  view  of  the  state  of  religion  in  England  at  this 
time,  than  any  other  contemporary  book.  I  hope  it  is  not  out 
of  print !  It  was  the  first  book  which  drew  my  attention  to 
the  Times  of  Whitefield.  It  was  lent  to  me,  whilst  a  student 
at  Hoxton  College,  by  the  late  W.  Shrubsole,  Esq.,  of  the 
Bank  of  England ;  the  son  of  the  author,  in  every  sense,  and 
one  of  my  earliest  and  kindest  friends,  when  I  was  "  a  stran- 
ger in  a  strange  land."  I  never  enter  the  Bank  of  England, 
without  remembering  with  a  thrill  of  grateful  emotion,  the 
sweet  evenings  I  spent  there  in  his  chambers,  and  in  his 
family  circle!  There  I  obtained  my  first  glimpses  of  Eng- 
lish society,  (and  I  shall  never  forget  them,)  on  my  arrival  in 
the  metropolis  from  the  mountains  and  solitudes  of  Aberdeen- 
shire. I  feel  young  again  in  recording  this  fact.  There  I 
heard,  for  the  first  time,  instrumental  music  and  musical 
science  combined  with  divine  worship  ;  and  now  I  never  hear 
them,  without  remembering  how  all  my  Scotch  prejudices 
against  this  combination  were  charmed  away  at  the  bank 
chambers  of  Mr.  Shrubsole. 


352       whitefield's    life    and    times. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

WHITEFIELD      IN      IRELAND. 

"Whitefield's  connexion  with  Ireland  was  too  slight  to  im- 
press any  character  upon  the  religion  of  the  country,  or  even 
to  give  an  impulse  to  it.  His  preaching  won  souls  ;  but  it 
set  in  motion  no  evangelizing  enterprise,  except  the  itineracy 
of  the  celebrated  John  Cennick,  who  obtained  for  the  Meth- 
odists in  Ireland  the  nick-name  of  swaddlers,  by  a  Christmas 
sermon.  His  text  was,  "  Ye  shall  find  the  babe  wrapped  in 
swaddling  clothes,  lying  in  a  manger."  A  catholic  who 
was  present,  and  to  whom  the  language  of  Scripture  was  a 
novelty,  says  Dr.  Southey,  M  thought  this  so  ludicrous,  that 
he  called  the  preacher  a  swaddler,  in  derision  ;  and  this  un- 
meaning word  became  the  nickname  of  the  Methodists,  and 
had  all  the  effect  of  the  most  opprobrious  appellation."  It  had 
indeed  !  AVhen  persecution  arose  against  the  Wesleys  and 
their  adherents,  the  watchword  of  the  mob  was,  "  Five 
pounds  for  a  swaddler's  head  !"  "  Anti-swaddlers  "  was  a 
name  chosen  for  themselves,  by  the  popish  party,  and  even 
avowed  by  them  at  the  trial  of  the  rioters.  A  public  notice 
was  posted  up  at  the  Exchange,  with  the  writer's  name  affixed 
to  it,  in  which  he  offered  to  head  any  mob  that  would  pull 
down  any  house  that  should  harbour  a  swaddler.  And 
houses  were  demolished  and  much  furniture  destroyed.  Nor 
was  this  all.  In  Cork,  Butler's  mob  fell  upon  men  and  wo- 
men, old  and  young,  with  clubs  and  swords,  and  beat  and 
wounded  them  in  a  dreadful  manner.  Even  the  mayor  told 
one  of  the  complainants,  whose  house  was  beset  and  about 
to  be  pulled  down,  that  if  he  would  not  "  turn  the  preachers 
out,"  he  must  take  whatever  he  might  get.  The  s  eriff 
also  sent  a  woman  to  Bridewell,  for  expressing  regret  at  see- 
ing the  vagabond  ballad-singer,  Butler,  going  about  in  the 
dress  of  a  clergyman,  with  the  Bible  in  one  hand,  and  ballaJs 
in  the  other.  Moore's  Life  of  Wesley.''  Mr.  Wesley  him- 
self describes,  what  he  calls,  "  Cork  persecution,"  thus  : — 
"breaking  the  houses  of  his  Majesty's  Protestant  subjects,  de- 


whitepield's    life    and    times.        353 

stroying  their  goods,  spoiling  or  tearing  the  very  clothes  from 
their  backs  ;  striking,  bruising,  wounding,  murdering  them  in 
the  streets  ;  dragging  them  through  the  mire,  without  any  re- 
gard to  age  or  sex  ;  not  sparing  even  those  of  tender  years  : 
no,  nor  women,  though  great  with  child  ;  but,  with  more  than 
pagan  or  Turkish  barbarity,  destroying  infants  that  were  yet 
unborn." 

These  enormities  were  well  nigh  over  before  Whitefield 
visited  Ireland.  The  higher  powers  had  interfered,  when  they 
found  that  the  lower  were  nearly  as  low  as  Butler.  White- 
field  found  the  benefit  of  the  shield  which  Wesley  so  much 
needed,  and  so  nobly  won.  He  had,  however,  preached  in 
Ireland  before  Wesley  visited  it ;  which  was  in  1 747.  In 
1738,  Whitefield  touched  there,  on  his  return  from  America, 
weak  and  weary,  after  a  tedious  and  famishing  voyage.  When 
he  landed  from  the  vessel,  "  we  had,"  he  says,  "  but  half  a 
pint  of  water  left,  and  my  stomach  was  exceeding  weak 
through  long  abstinence.  Most  of  us  begin  to  be  weak,  and 
look  hollow-eyed.  My  clothes  have  not  been  off,  except  to 
change,  all  the  passage.  Part  of  the  time  I  lay  on  the  open 
deck,  part  on  a  chest,  and  the  remainder  on  a  bedstead, 
covered  with  my  buffalo's  skin."  He  was  welcomed  at  a 
"  strong  castle,"  where,  he  says,  "  I  asked  the  servant  for 
water,  and  she  gave  me  milk,  and  brought  forth  butter  in  a 
lordly  dish.  And  never — did  I  make  a  more  comfortable 
meal ! " 

After  resting  for  a  day  or  two  at  Kilrush,  to  renew  his 
strength,  he  went  to  Limerick,  where  the  bishop,  Dr.  Burs- 
cough,  received  him  with  much  hospitality  and  candour.  His 
lordship  requested  him  to  preach  in  the  cathedral  on  Sunday, 
and  on  parting  with  him  kissed  him  and  said,  "  Mr.  Whitefield, 
God  bless  you  !  I  wish  you  success  abroad  ;  had  you  staid 
in  town,  this  house  should  have  been  your  home."  This 
welcome  was  the  more  gratifying,  because  his  sermon  had 
agitated  the  people.  In  walking  .about  the  town  next  day, 
"  all  the  inhabitants,"  he  says,  "seemed  alarmed,  and  looked 
most  wishfully  at  me  as  I  passed  along."  The  contrast  in  his 
circumstances,  also,  affected  him  very  deeply.  "  Good  God  !  " 
he  exclaims,  "  where  was  I  on  Saturday  last  t  In  hunger,  cold, 
and  thirsting  ;  but  now  I  enjoy  fulness  of  bread,  and  all  things 
convenient  for  me.  God  grant  I  may  not,  Jeshurun-like, 
wax  fat  and  kick !  Perhaps  it  is  more  difficult  to  know  how 
to  abound,  than  how  to  want." 

30* 


354        whitefiei-d's   life    and    times. 

From  Limerick  he  went  to  Dublin,  where  he  preached 
twice  in  the  churches  ;  the  second  time  to  such  a  rivetted 
crowd,  that  he  calls  it,  "  like  a  London  congregation."  Here 
also  the  bishops  were  neither  afraid  nor  ashamed  of  him. 
The  primate  of  all  Ireland  invited  him  to  dinner,  and  told 
him  that  he  heard  of  him  from  Gibraltar.  The  bishop 
of  Londonderry  also  was  equally  kind.  Whitefield  felt  all 
this  deeply,  and  rejoiced  with  trembling.  "  Dearest  Jesus," 
he  exclaims,  "  grant  me  humility  !  so  shall  thy  favours  not 
prove  my  ruin." 

Such  was  his  first  reception  in  Ireland.  His  second,  in 
1751,  although  upon  the  whole  favourable,  was  "not  like 
uuto  it."  He  was  now  a  field  preacher,  and  just  hot  from 
Wales,  where  he  had  been  preaching  twice  a  day,  over  a 
space  of  500  miles.  He  began  his  labour  in  Dublin,  and 
found  at  once  large  congregations  hearing  "  as  for  eternity." 
In  Limerick  and  Cork,  also,  his  commanding  eloquence 
overawed  the  old  persecutors.  The  public  cry  was,  "  Meth- 
odism is  revived  again  ;"  but  it  was  the  signal  of  welcome, 
not  of  war,  as  formerly.  At  this  time  he  was  both  very  weak 
in  body,  and  subject  to  daily  vomiting.  During  this  visit,  he 
preached  eighty  times,  and  with  great  success.  "  Providence," 
says  he,  "has  wonderfully  prepared  my  way,  and  overruled 
every  thing  for  my  greater  acceptance.  Every  where  there 
seems  to  be  a  shaking  among  the  dry  bones,  and  the  trembling 
lamps  of  God's  people  have  been  supplied  with  fresh  oil. 
The  word  ran  and  was  glorified."  "Hundreds,"  says  Dr. 
Southey,  "prayed  for  him,  when  he  left  Cork  ;  and  many  of 
the  Catholics  said,  that,  if  he  would  stay,  they  would  leave 
their  priests." 

One  cause  of  Whitcfield's  popularity  at  this  time  was,  that 
he  meddled  not  with  Irish  politics.  "  He  condemned  all 
politics,"  says  Dr.  Southey,  "  as  below  the  children  of 
God  ;  "  but  why  did  the  Doctor  add,  "  alluding,  apparently, 
to  the  decided  manner  in  which  Wesley  always  inculcated 
obedience  to  government  as  one  of  the  duties  of  a  Christian; 
making  it  his  boast,  that,  whoever  became  a  good  Meth- 
odist, became,  at  the  same  time,  a  good  subject."  Was 
Whitefield  less  loyal  than  Wesley  ?  Where  1  Not  in  Ire- 
land certainly.  I  have  now  before  me  the  letter  which  justi- 
fies the  Doctor  in  hinting  that  Whitefield  "seems  to  have 
regarded  the  conduct  of  Wesley  and  his  lay-preachers,"  in 
Ireland,  "  with  no  favourable  eye."     But  why  should  this  be 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         355 

interpreted  to  mean  their  politics  chiefly,  or  at  all  ?  Dr. 
Southey  quotes  from  Whitefield,  as  if  he  had  said,  that 
"some  dreadful  offences  had  been  given"  by  the  \Vesley- 
ans  ;  and  argues  as  if  they  had  been  political  offences. 
Whitefield  himself  says,  "I  find,  through  the  many  offences 
that  have  lately  been  given,  matters  (among  the  Methodists,) 
were  brought  to  a  low  ebb  ;  but  now,  the  cry  is, '  Methodism 
is  revived  again  ! '  Thanks  be  to  God,  that  I  have  an  op- 
portunity of  showing  my  disinterestedness,  and  that  I  preach 
not  for  a  party  of  my  own,  but  for  the  common  interest 
of  my  blessed  Master.  Your  ladyship  "  (the  letter  is  to  Lady 
Huntingdon,)  "  would  smile  to  see  how  the  wise  have  been 
catched  in  their  own  craftiness."  Now  this  justifies  the  hint, 
that  Whitefield  "  seems  to  have  regarded  their  conduct  with 
no  favourable  eye."  Indeed  it  is  the  severest  thing  I  know 
of,  that  he  says  in  connexion  with  Wesley's  name — for  that 
he  meant  him,  by  "  the  wise  caught  in  their  own  crafti- 
ness," is  obvious.  It  is  not  "apparent,"  however,  that  he 
alluded  to  "  the  decided  manner  in  which  Wesley  incul- 
cated obedience  to  government."  That,  in  fact  was.not  a 
matter  of  policy,  but  of  vital  principle,  with  Wesley^jnd 
Whitefield  too.  Wesley  had,  however,  lines  of  policy, 
which  Whitefield  was  jealous  of,  and  opposed  to,  not  without 
reason. 

Whitefield's  last  visit  to  Ireland  was  in  1757,  when  he 
nearly  lost  his  life,  after  preaching  at  Oxminton  Green. 
This  was  popish  outrage.  The  church  was  not  unfriendly 
to  him.  Indeed,  one  of  the  bishops  said  to  a  nobleman, 
who  told  Whitefield, — "  I  am  glad  he  is  come  to  rouse  the 
people."  Even  the  primate  solicited  him  to  "  accept  of 
some  considerable  church  preferment,  which  he  declined." 
Dt  Courcy. 

"  Perferments,  honours,  ease,  he  deemed  but  loss, 
Vile  and  contemptible,  for  Jesus'  cross: 
Inur'd  to  scandal,  injuries,  and  pain, 
To  him  to  live  was  Christ ;    to  die  was  gain." 

De  Courcy's  Elegy. 

His  own  narrative  of  the  outrage  is  as  interesting  as  it  is  cir- 
cumstantial.— "  Many  attacks  have  I  had  from  Satan's  chil- 
dren, but  yesterday  you  would  have  thought  he  had  been  per- 
mitted to  give  me  an  effectual  parting  blow.  I  had  once  or 
twice  ventured  out  to  Oxminton  Green,  a  large  place  like 


356        whitefield's   life   and  times. 

Moorfields,  situated  very  near  the  barracks,  where  the  Or- 
mond  and  Liberty  boys,  that  is,  the  high  and  low  party  boys, 
generally  assemble  every  Sunday,  to  fight  each  other.  When 
I  was  here  last,  the  congregations  were  very  numerous,  and 
the  word  seemed  to  come  with  power,  and  no  noise  nor  dis- 
turbance ensued.  This  encouraged  me  to  give  notice,  that 
I  would  preach  there  again.  I  went  through  the  barracks, 
the  door  of  which  opens  into  the  Green,  and  pitched  my  tent 
near  the  barrack  walls — not  doubting  of  the  protection,  or  at 
least  interposition,  of  the  officers  and  soldiery,  if  there  should 
be  occasion.  But  how  vain  is  the  help  of  man?  Vast  was  the 
multitude  that  attended.  We  sang,  prayed,  and  preached 
without  molestation  ;  only  now  and  then  a  few  stones  and 
clods  of  dirt  were  thrown  at  me. 

"  It  being  war  time,  I  exhorted,  as  is  my  usual  practice, 
my  hearers,  not  only  to  fear  God,  but  to  honour  the  best  of 
kings  ;  and  after  sermon,  I  prayed  for  success  to  the  Prus- 
sian arms.     All  being  over,  I  thought  to  return  home  the  way 
I  came  :  but,  to  my  great  surprise,  access  was  denied,  so  that 
I  had  to  go  near  half  a  mile  from  one  end  of  the  Green  to  the 
other,  through  hundreds  and  hundreds  of  papists,  &c.     Find- 
ing me  unattended,  (for  a  soldier  and  four  Methodist  preach- 
ers, who  came  with  me,  had  forsook  me  and  fled,)  I  was  left  to 
their  mercy.     But  their  mercy,  as  you  may  easily  guess,  was 
perfect  cruelty.     Volleys  of  hard  stones  came  from  all  quar- 
ters, and  every  step  I  took  a  fresh  stone  made  me  reel  back- 
wards and  forwards,  till  I  was  almost  breathless,  and  all  over  a 
gore  of  blood.    My  strong  beaver  hat  served  me  as  it  were  for  a 
scull  cap  for  a  while;  but  at  last  it  was  knocked  off,  and  my  head 
left  quite  defenceless.  I  received  many  blows  and  wounds;  one 
was  particularly  large,  and  near  my  temples.     I  thought  of 
Stephen,  and  as  I  believed  that  I  received  more  blows  I  was  in 
great  hopes  that  like  him  I  should  be  despatched,  and  go  off* 
in  this  bloody  triumph  to  the  immediate  presence  of  my  Mas- 
ter.    But  providentially  a  minister's  house  lay  next  door  to 
the  Green ;  with  great  difficulty  I  staggered  to  the  door,  which 
was  kindly  opened  to,  and  shut  upon,  me.     Some  of  the  mob 
in  the  meantime  having  broke  part  of  the  boards  of  the  pulpit 
into  large  splinters,  they  beat  and  wounded  my  servant  griev- 
ously in   his  head  and  arms,  and   then  came  and  drove  him 
from  the  door.     For  a  while  I  continued  speechless,  panting 
for,  and  expecting  every  breath  to  be  my  last.     Two  or  three 
of  the  hearers,  my  friends,  by  some  means  or  other,  got  ad- 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        357 

mission,  and  kindly  with  weeping  eyes  washed  my  hloody 
wounds,  and  gave  me  something  to  smell  to  and  to  drink.  I 
gradually  revived,  hut  soon  found  the  lady  of  the  house  desir- 
ed my  absence,  for  fear  the  house  should  be  pulled  down. 
What  to  do   I  knew  not,   being  near  two  miles  from  Mr. 

W 's  place  ;    some  advised  one  thing,  and  some  another. 

At  length,  a  carpenter,  one  of  the  friends  that  came  in,  offered 
me  his  wig  and  coat,  that  I  might  go  off  in  disguise.  I  ac- 
cepted of  and  put  them  on,  but  was  soon  ashamed  of  not 
trusting  my  Master  to  secure  me  in  my  proper  habit,  and 
threw  them  off  with  disdain.  I  determined  to  go  out  (since  I 
found  my  presence  was  so  troublesome)  in  my  proper  habit ; 
immediately  deliverance  came.  A  methodist  preacher,  with 
two  friends,  brought  a  coach  ;  I  leaped  into  it,  and  rode  in 
gospel  triumph  through  the  oaths,  curses,  and  imprecations  of 
whole  streets  of  papists  unhurt,  though  threatened  every  step 
of  the  ground.  None  but  those  who  were  spectators  of  the 
scene,  can  form  an  idea  of  the  affection  with  which  I  was  re- 
ceived by  the  weeping,  mourning,  but  now  joyful  Methodists. 
A  Christian  surgeon  was  ready  to  dress  our  wounds,  which 
being  done,  I  went  into  the  preaching-place,  and  after  giving 
a  word  of  exhortation,  joined  in  a  hymn  of  praise  and  thanks- 
giving to  Him  who  makes  our  extremity  his  opportunity,  who 
stills  the  noise  of  the  waves,  and  the  madness  of  the  most  ma- 
lignant people.  The  next  morning  I  set  out  for  Port  Arling- 
ton, and  left  my  persecutors  to  His  mercy,  who  out  of  perse- 
cutors hath  often  made  preachers.  That  I  may  be  thus  re- 
venged of  them,  is  my  hearty  prayer." 


358  WHITE  FIELD7  8    LIFE     AND     TIMES. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

whitefield's    characteristic    sayings. 
1734  to  1745. 

Contentment.  "  I  find  all  uneasiness  arises  from  having 
a  will  of  my  own  ;  therefore  I  would  desire  to  will  only  what 
God  wills." 

Condition.  "Alas!  that  any  one  should  inquire  after 
such  a  wretch  as  I  am.  As  for  my  quality  ;  I  was  a  poor, 
mean  drawer  (tapster)  ;  but,  by  the  grace  of  God,  I  am  now 
intended  for  the  ministry.  As  for  my  estate  !  I  am  a  servi- 
tor. And  as  to  my  condition  and  circumstances  ;  I  have 
not  (of  my  own)  where  to  lay  my  head.  But  my  friends, 
by  God's  providence,  minister  daily  to  me  :  and,  in  return 
for  such  unmerited,  unspeakable  blessings,  1  trust  tho  same 
good  Being  will  give  me  grace  to  dedicate  myself  without 
reserve  to  his  service — to  spend  and  be  spent  for  the  wel- 
fare of  my  fellow-creatures,  and  in  endeavouring  to  promote 
the  gospel  of  his  Son  as  much  as  lieth  in  my  poor  power." 
Whitefield's  early  purpose"  turned  out  an  accurate  prophecy ! 
He  became  what  he  wished  to  be,  and  did  what  he  designed. 

Humility.  "  Catch  an  old  Christian  without  humility — if 
you  can  !  It  is  nothing  but  this  flesh  of  ours,  and  those  cursed 
seeds  of  the  proud  apostate,  which  lie  lurking  within  us,  that 
make  us  think  ourselves  worthy  of  the  air  we  breathe.  When 
our  eyes  are  opened  by  the  influence  of  divine  grace,  we  then 
shall  begin  to  think  of  ourselves  ;  as  we  ought  to  think ; ' 
even  that  Christ  is  all  in  all,  and  we  less  than  nothing." 

Inexperience.  Oh,  let  us  young,  inexperienced  soldiers,  be 
always  upon  our  guard.  The  moment  we  desert  our  post,  the 
enemy  rushes  in  :  and  if  he  can  but  so  divert  our  eyes  from 
looking  heavenward,  (often,)  he  will  soon  so  blind  us,  that  we 
shall  not  look  towards  it  at  all.  A  great  deal  may  be  learned 
from  a  little  fall." 

Example.     "  The   degeneracy  of  the  age  is  not  the  least 


whitefield's   life   and  times.  359 

objection  against  advances  in  piety.  It  is  true,  indeed,  that 
instances  of  exalted  piety  are  rarely  to  be  met  with  in  the 
present  age  :  one  would  think,  if  we  were  to  take  an  esti- 
mate of  our  religion  from  the  lives  of  most  of  its  professors, 
that  Christianity  was  nothing  but  a  dead  letter.  But  then- 
it  is  not  our  religion  but  ourselves  that  is  to  blame  for  this." 

Such  were  some  of  Whitefield's  "  first  principles,"  when 
he  began  to  study  at  Oxford.  How  well  they  lasted,  and  how 
much  they  influenced  him,  all  through  life,  will  appear  equally 
from  his  history,  and  from  their  frequent  recurrence  in  other 
and  more  powerful  forms,  in  this  sketch  of  his  governing 
maxims.  The  sketch  itself  I  have  made  with  some  care,  in 
order  to  illustrate  both  his  talents  and  piety :  that  those  who 
speak  of  him,  may  judge  of  him  from  his  "  sayings,"  as  well 
as  from  his  "  doings."  Had  Dr.  Doddridge  reviewed  the 
following  Miscellany  of  Whitefield's  maxims,  he  would  have 
retracted  the  charge  of  "  weakness  "  he  made  against  him, 
and  heightened  all  his  eulogiums  on  the  piety  and  zeal  of  his 
friend.  But  Doddridge  saw  Whitefield  chiefly,  if  not  only, 
when  Whitefield  had  preached  away  all  his  strength  and  spi- 
rits, in  "  the  great  congregations,"  and  could  speak  only  of 
his  work  and  warfare.  Thus  he  judged  of  his  talents,  as  a 
Scotch  minister  did  of  his  devotion,  when  he  was  jaded  by 
hard  labour.  Posterity  will  now  judge  of  both  for  themselves 
— from  the  following  specimens  of  both. 

Self-renunciation.  "  What  is  there  so  monstrously  ter- 
rible in  a  doctrine,  that  is  the  constant  subject  of  our  prayers, 
whenever  we  put  up  that  petition,  '  Thy  will  be  done  on  earth 
as  it  is  in  heaven?"  The  import  of  which  seems  to  be  this, 
—  that  we  do  everything  God  wills,  and  nothing  but  what 
he  willeth ;  that  we  do  those  things  he  willeth,  only  be- 
cause he  willeth.  This  cannot,  indeed,  be  done  in  a  day. 
We  have  not  only  a  new  house  to  build  up,  but  also  an  old 
one  to  pull  down." 

Temptation.  "  We  find  our  Saviour  was  led  into  the  wil- 
derness before  he  entered  upon  his  public  ministry  :  and  so 
must  we  too,  if  we  would  tread  in  his  steps." 

Prayers  requested.  "  If  Pauncefort's  petitions  for  me 
should  run  in  this  manner,  I  should  be  thankful  : — That  God 
should  finish  the  good  work  he  has  begun  in  me ;  that  I  may 
never  seek  nor  be  fond  of  worldly  preferment ;  but  may  em- 
ploy every  mite  of  those  talents  it  shall  please  God  to  intrust 
me  with,  to  His  glory  and  the  church's  good  ;    and  likewise, 


360        whitefield's    life    and    times. 

that  the  endeavours  of  my  friends  to  revive  pure  religion  in 
the  world,  may  meet  with  proper  success." 

Consecration.  «  I  can  call  heaven  and  earth  to  witness, 
that  when  the  bishop  laid  his  hand  upon  me,  I  gave  myseli  up 
a  martyr  to  him  who  hung  upon  the  cross  tor  me.  Known 
unto  him  are  all  future  events  and  contingencies :  1  nave 
thrown  myself  blindfold,  and  I  trust  without  reserve,  into  His 
almighty  "hands."  . 

F^st  Sermon.  »  It  was  my  intention  to  have  at  least  a 
hundred  sermons  with  which  to  begin  my  ministry  :  1  have 
not  a  single  one  by  me,  except  one  which  I  sent  to  a  neigh- 
bouring clergyman— to  convince  him  how  unfit  1  was  to  take 
upon  me  the  important  work  of  preaching.  He  kept  it  a  fort- 
night, and  then  sent  it  back  with  a  guinea  tor  the  loan  ;  tell- 
ing me  he  had  preached  it  morning  and  evening  to  his  congre- 
gation, by  dividing  it."  -. ■ 

Reproach.  "  Strange,  that  any  one  should  let  a  little 
reproach  deprive  them  of  an  eternal  crown  !  Lord,  what  is 
man  !  In  a  short  time  we  shall  have  praise  enough.  Heaven 
will  echo  with  the  applause  given  to  the  true  followers  ol  the 

A  Wife's  Portrait.  «  I  live  in  hopes  of  seeing  you  and 
your  wife  again  (growing  in  grace)  in  England.  You  told 
me,  she  desired  I  would  draw  her  picture  ;  but  alas  'she  has 
applied  to  an  improper  limner.  However,  though  I  cannot 
describe  what  she  is,  I  can  tell  what  she  ought  to  be:— Meek, 
patient,  long-suffering,  obedient  in  all  things,  not  self-willed, 
not  soon  angry,  no  brawler,  swift  to  hear,  slow  to  speak,  and 
ready  to  every  good  word  and  work.  But  I  can  no  more  ;  l 
dare  not  go  on  in  telling  another  what  she  ought  to  be,  when 
I  want  so  much  myself;  only  this  I  know,  when  possessed  ot 
those  good  qualities  before-mentioned,  she  will  then  be  as 
happy  as  her  heart  can  wish." 

Miracles.  "  What  need  is  there  for  them,  now  that  we 
see  greater  miracles  every  day  done  by  the  power  of  God  s 
word  1  Do  not  the  spiritually  blind  now  see?  Are  not  the 
spiritually  dead  now  raised,  and  the  leprous  souls  now  cleans- 
ed, and  have  not  the  poor  the  gospel  preached  unto  them? 
And  if  we  have  the  thing  already,  which  such  miracles  were 
only  intended  to  introduce,  why  should  we  tempt  God  in 
requiring  further  signs  1     He  that  hath  ears  to  hear,  let  him 

Warning.     "  God  forbid  I  should  be  called,  at  the  great 


whitefield's  life   and  times.         361 

day,   to  say  that  my  dear  Mr.  put  his  hand  to  th3 

plough  and  turned  back  unto  perdition.  Good  God  !  tin 
thought  strikes  me  as  though  a  dart  was  shot  through  my  liver. 
Return,  return.  My  dear  friend,  I  cannot  part  from  you  for 
ever.  Do  not  speak  peace  to  your  soul,  when  there  is  no 
peace.  Do  not  turn  factor  for  the  devil.  Do  not  prejudice 
or  hurt  my  brother,  and  thereby  add  to  the  grief  you  have  al- 
ready occasioned." 

Zeal.  "  I  love  those  that  thunder  out  the  word.  The 
Christian  world  is  in  a  deep  sleep.  Nothing  but  a  loud  voice 
can  awaken  them  out  of  it." 

Zeal  and  Prudence.  "  Had  we  a  thousand  hands  and 
tongues,  there  is  employment  enough  for  them  all :  people 
are  every  where  ready  to  perish  for  lack  of  knowledge.  As 
the  Lord  has  be«n  pleased  to  reveal  his  dear  Son  in  us,  oh  let 
us  stir  up  that  gift  of  God,  and  with  all  boldness  preach  him 
to  others.  Freely  we  have  received,  freely  let  us  give  :  what 
Christ  tells  us  by  his  Spirit  in  our  closets,  that  let  us  proclaim 
on  the  house-top.  He  who  sends  will  protect  us.  All  the 
devils  in  hell  shall  not  hurt  us,  till  we  have  finished  our  testi- 
mony. And  then  if  we  should  seal  it  with  imprisonment  or 
death,  well  will  it  be  with  us,  and  happy  shall  we  be  ever- 
more !  But  the  proof  of  our  sincerity  will  be  when  we  come  to 
the  trial.     I  fear  for  no  one  so  much  as  myself." 

Impatience.  u  I  want  to  leap  my  seventy  years.  I  long 
to  be  dissolved,  to  be  with  Christ.  Sometimes  it  arises  from 
a  fear  of  falling,  knowing  what  a  body  of  sin  I  carry  about 
me!  Sometimes  from  a  prospect  of  future  labours  and  suffer- 
ings, lam  out  of  humour,  and  wish  for  death  as  Elijah  did. 
At  others,  I  am  tempted,  and  then  I  long  to  be  freed  from 
temptations.  But  it  is  not  thus  always,  there  are  times 
when  my  soul  hath  such  foretastes  of  God,  that  I  long  more 
eagerly  to  be  with  him  ;  and  the  frequent  prospect  of  the  hap- 
piness which  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect  now  enjoy, 
often  carries  me,  as  it  were,  into  another  world." 

Bunyan.  "  And  oh  what  sweet  communion  did  he  enjoy 
in  Bedford  gaol !  I  really  believe  a  minister  will  learn  more 
by  one  month's  confinement,  than  by  a  year's  study." 

Blasts.  "  The  light  that  has  been  given  us  is  not  to  be 
put  under  a  bushel,  but  on  a  candlestick.  Satan,  indeed,  by 
blasts  of  persecution,  will  do  all  he  can  to  put  it  out.  If  our 
light  be  the  light  of  Christ,  those  blasts  will  only  cause  it  to 
shine  the  brighter." 

31 


362        whitefield's  life    and  times. 

Friends.  "  Nothing  gives  me  more  comfort,  next  to  the 
assurance  of  the  eternal  continuance  of  God's  love,  than  the 
pleasing  reflection  of  having  so  many  Christian  friends  to 
watch  with  my  soul.  I  wish  they  would  smite  me  friendly, 
and  reprove  me  oftener  than  they  do  ;  I  would  force  my 
proud  heart  to  thank  them." 

Candour.  m  Success  I  fear  elated  my  mind.  I  did  not 
behave  towards  you,  and  other  ministers  of  Christ,  with  that 
humility  which  became  me.  I  freely  confess  my  fault;  I 
own  myself  to  be  but  a  novice.  Your  charity,  dear  sir,  will 
excite  you  to  pray  that  I  may  not  through  pride  fall  into  the 
condemnation  of  the  devil.  Dear  sir,  shall  1  come  out  into 
the  world  again  or  not?  Must  I  venture  myself  once  more 
among  firebrands,  arrows,  and  death?  Methinks  I  hear  you 
reply,  '  Yes,  if  you  come  forth  in  the  strength  of  the  Lord 
God,  and  make  mention  of  his  righteousness  only.'  It  is 
my  desire  so  to  do.  I  would  have  Jesus  all  in  all.  Like  a 
pure  crystal  I  would  transmit  all  the  light  he  poureth  upon 
me." 

Humility.  "  If  possible,  Satan  will  make  us  to  think 
more  highly  of  ourselves  than  we  ought  to  think.  I  can  tell 
this  by  fatal  experience.  It  is  not  sudden  flashes  of  joy,  but 
having  the  humility  of  Christ  Jesus,  that  must  denominate  us 
Christians.  If  we  hate  reproof,  we  are  so  far  from  being  true 
followers  of  the  Lamb  of  God,  that  in  the  opinion  of  the 
wisest  of  men,  we  are  brutish." 

Ingenious  Fidelity.  "  The  principles- which  I  maintain, 
are  purely  Scriptural,  and  every  way  agreeable  to  the  church 
of  England  Articles.  What  I  have  been  chiefly  concerned 
about  is,  lest  any  should  rest  in  the  bare  speculative  know- 
ledge, and  not  experience  the  power  of  them  in  their  own 
hearts.  What  avails  it,  sir,  if  I  am  a  patron  for  the  righteous- 
ness of  Jesus  Christ  in  behalf  of  another,  if  at  the  same  time 
I  am  self-righteous  myself?  I  am  thus  jealous,  1  trust  with 
a  godly  jealousy,  because  I  see  so  many  self-deceivers  among 
my  acquaintance.  There  is  one  in  particular,  (whom  I  love, 
and  for  whom  I  most  heartily  pray,)  who  approves  of  my  doc- 
trine, and  hath  heard  it  preached  many  years  past,  but  1  could 
never  hear  him  tell  of  his  experiences,  or  of  what  God  has 
done  for  his  soul.  He  hath  excellent  good  desires  and  inten- 
tions, but  I  think  he  wants  something  more  :  Lord,  for  thy 
infinite  mercy's  sake,  grant  he  may  know  himself  even  as  he 
is  known!    I   need  not  tell  Mr.  I) who  this  dear  friend 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        363 

is — you  are  intimately  acquainted  with  him  ;  you  love  him  as 
you  do  your  own  heart ;  you  are  never  out  of  his  company. 
O  dear  sir,  be  not  angry.  Methinks  I  hear  you,  by  this  time, 
making  an  application,  and  saying,  '  Then  I  am  the  man.' 
True,  dear  sir,  I  confess  you  are.  But  love,  love  for  your 
better  part,  your  soul,  your  precious  soul,  this  love  constrains 
me  to  use  this  freedom.  You  are  more  noble  than  to  take  it 
ill  at  my  hands ;  1  could  not  bear  even  to  suspect  that  you 
deceived  yourself,  dear  sir,  and  not  tell  you  such  a  suspi- 
cion was  in  my  heart.  That  God  may  powerfully  convince 
you  of  self-righteousness,  and  clothe  you  with  the  righteous- 
ness of  his  dear  Son ;  that  he  may  fill  you  with  his  grace, 
and  thereby  fit  you  for,  and  at  last  translate  you  to,  his 
glory,  is  the  hearty  prayer  of, 
"  dear  sir, 
"  your  most  obliged  and  affectionate  friend, 

"  and  humble  servant, 

"  G.  W.» 

Catholicitv.  "  I  wish  all  names  among  the  saints  of  God 
were  swallowed  up  in  that  one  of  Christian.  I  long  for  pro- 
fessors to  leave  off  placing  religion  in  saying,  4I  am  a  church 
man,'  '  I  am  a  dissenter.'  My  language  to  such  is,  '  Are  you 
of  Christ?   If  so,  I  love  you  with  all  my  heart.'" 

Self-Knowledge.  "  My  heart  is  like  Ezekiel's  temple, 
the  further  I  search  into  it,  the  greater  abominations  I  disco- 
ver ;  but  there  is  a  fountain  opened  for  sin  and  all  unclean- 
ness." 

Godly  Jealousy.  "  There  is  nothing  I  dread  more  than 
having  my  heart  drawn  away  by  earthly  objects. — When  that 
time  comes,  it  will  be  over  with  me  indeed  ;  I  must  then  bid 
adieu  to  zeal  and  fervency  of  spirit,  and  in  effect  bid  the  Lord 
Jesus  to  depart  from  me.  For  alas,  what  room  can  there  be 
for  God,  when  a  rival  hath  taken  possession  of  the  heart? 
My  blood  runs  cold  at  the  very  thought  thereof.  I  cannot, 
indeed,  I  cannot  away  with  it." 

Wonder.  "As  for  my  own  part,  T  often  stand  astonished 
at  the  riches  of  free  distinguishing  grace,  and  I  often  feel  my- 
self so  great  a  sinner,  that  I  am  tempted  to  think  nothing  can 
be  blessed  which  comes  from  such  unhallowed  hands  and 
lips  ;  and  yet  the  Lord  is  with  me,  and  attends  his  word  with 
mighty  power." 

Assurance,     "The  root  of  the  matter  is  twisted  round 


364        whitefi  eld's    life    and    times. 

every  faculty  of  the  soul,  which  daily  is  supported  with  this 
assurance,  that  Christ  can  no  more  forsake  the  soul  he  loves, 
than  he  can  forsake  himself." 

Confession.  "All  that  people  do  say  of  me,  affects  me 
but  little  ;  because  I  know  worse  of  myself  than  they  can  say 
concerning  me.  My  heart  is  desperately  wicked.  Was  God 
to  leave  me  I  should  be  a  remarkable  sinner." 

Zeal.  "Nature  would  sometimes  cry  out,  'Spare  thy- 
self; '  but  when  I  am  offering  Jesus  to  poor  sinners,  I  cannot 
forbear  exerting  all  my  powers.  Oh,  that  1  had  a  thousand 
lives  ;  my  dear  Lord  Jesus  should  have  them  all." 

Affliction.  "Well  may  God  afflict  me;  I  richly  deserve 
it ;  and  when  he  brings  me  low,  nothing  grieves  me  so  much, 
as  to  think  that  I  should  be  so  froward,  as  to  oblige  the  God 
of  love  to  strike  me  with  his  rod.  But,  oh,  the  goodness  of 
the  Lord  !  His  rod,  as  well  as  staff,  do  comfort  and  build  up 
my  soul.  I  would  not  but  be  tried  for  ten  thousand  worlds. 
Blessed  be  God,  I  am  enabled  to  clasp  the  cross,  and  desire 
to  glory  in  nothing  more." 

Luther.  m  I  find  Luther's  observation  to  be  true  :  'Times 
of  reformation  are  times  of  confusion  ; '  as  yet  the  churches 
in  America  are  quiet,  but  I  expect  a  sifting  time  ere  long." 

America.  "  1  am  more  and  more  in  love  with  the  good  old 
puritans  ;  I  am  pleased  at  the  thoughts  of  sitting  down  here- 
after with  the  venerable  Cotton,  Norton,  Eliot,  and  that  great 
cloud  of  witnesses,  which  first  crossed  the  western  ocean  for 
the  sake  of  the  gospel,  and  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the 
saints.  At  present,  my  soul  is  so  filled,  that  I  can  scarce 
proceed." 

Parliament.  "Though  I  scarce  know  an  oak  from  a 
hickory,  or  one  kind  of  land  from  another,  I  am  subpoenaed  to 
appear  before  parliament,  to  give  an  account  of  the  condition 
of  the  province  of  Georgia  when  I  left  it." 

Assurance.  "  As  for  assurance,  I  cannot  but  think  all  who 
are  truly  converted  must  know  that  there  was  a  time  in  which 
they  closed  with  Christ :  but  then,  as  so  many  have  died  only 
with  an  humble  hope,  and  have  been  even  under  doubts  and 
fears,  though  they  could  not  but  be  looked  upon  as  Chiistians, 
I  am  less  positive  than  once  I  was,  lest  haply  I  should  con- 
demn some  of  God's  dear  children.  The  farther  we  go  in  the 
spiritual  life,  the  more  cool  and  rational  shall  we  be,  and  yet 
more  truly  zealous.     I  speak  this  by  experience." 

Holy  Fire.     "  I  desire  that  none  of  my  wildfire  may  be 


whitefield's  life   and   times.  365 

mixed  with  the  pure  fire  of  holy  zeal  coming  from  God's  altar. 
I  think  it  my  duty  to  wait,  to  go  on  simply  in  preaching  the 
everlasting  gospel,  and  I  believe  we  shall  yet  see  the  salvation 
of  God." 

Field  Preaching.  "  Every  one  hath  his  proper  gift.  Field 
preaching  is  my  plan.  In  this  I  am  carried  as  on  eagles* 
wings." 

Pharisees.  "I  find  no  such  enemies  to  the  cross  of  Christ, 
as  those  who  keep  up  the  form  of  religion,  and  are  orthodox 
in  their  notions,  but  are  ignorant  of  an  experimental  acquaint- 
ance with  Jesus." 

Punning.  "  Once  in  my  sermon,  I  said,  '  Oh,  that  New 
England  was  full  of  new  creatures  ! '" 

Catholic  Spirit.  "  I  talk  freely  with  the  Messrs.  Wes- 
ley, though  we  widely  differ  in  a  certain  point.  Most  talk  of 
a  catholic  spirit ;  but  it  is  only  till  they  have  brought  people 
into  the  pale  of  their  own  church.  This  is  downright  secta- 
rianism, not  Catholicism.  How  can  I  act  consistently,  unless 
I  receive  and  love  all  the  children  of  God,  whom  I  esteem  to 
be  such,  of  whatever  denomination  they  may  be  1  Why  should 
we  dispute  when  there  is  no  probability  of  convincing]  I 
think  this  is  not  giving  up  the  faith,  but  fulfilling  our  Lord's 
new  command,  '  Love  one  another  ; '  and  our  love  is  but 
feigned,  unless  it  produces  proper  effects.  I  am  persuaded, 
the  more  the  love  of  God  is  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts,  the 
more  all  narrowness  of  spirit  will  subside  and  give  way  :  be- 
sides, so  far  as  we  are  narrow-spirited,  we  are  uneasy.  Pre- 
judices, jealousies,  and  suspicions  make  the  soul  miserable, 
so  far  as  they  are  entertained." 

Zeal.  "  Those  who  are  not  solidly  established  in  the  love 
of  God,  will  fall  too  much  in  love  with  the  outward  form  of 
their  particular  church,  be  it  what  it  will.  But  as  the  love  of 
God  gets  the  ascendency,  the  more  they  will  be  like  him  and 
his  holy  angels,  and  consequently  rejoice  when  souls  are 
brought  to  Jesus,  whatever  instruments  may  be  made  use  of 
for  that  purpose.  If  therefore  some  that  you  and  I  know,  are 
too  confined  (as  I  believe  is  too  much  the  case) ;  if  they  do 
not  preach  more  frequently,  and  abound  more  in  good  works; 
I  think  it  is  for  want  of  having  their  hearts  more  inflamed  with 
the  love  of  God,  and  their  graces  kept  in  more  constant  exer- 
cise. To  stir  up  the  gift  of  God  that  is  in  us,  is  an  apostolical 
injunction  ;  and  if  we  do  not  keep  upon  our  watch,  we  shall 
fall  into  a  false  stillness.     Nature  loves  ease  ;  and  as  a  blind 

31* 


366  whitefield's   life  and   times. 

zeal  often  prompts  us  to  speak  too  much,  so  tepidity  and  luke- 
warmness  often  cause  us  to  speak  too  little.  Divine  wisdom 
alone  is  profitable  to  direct  ;  and  I  would  be  very  cautious 
how  I  speak,  lest  I  should  take  too  much  upon  me." 

Bigotry.  "  Disputing  with  bigots  and  narrow-spirited 
people  will  not  do.  I  intend  henceforward  to  say  less  to 
them,  and  pray  more  and  more  to  our  Lord  for  them.  'Lord, 
enlarge  their  hearts,'  is  my  continual  prayer  for  such,  who  are 
so  straitened  in  their  own  bowels.  Blessed  be  God,  this  par- 
tition-wall is  breaking  down  daily  in  some  of  our  old  friends' 
hearts  in  London.  I  exhort  all  to  go  where  they  can  profit 
most.  1  preach  what  I  believe  to  be  the  truth,  and  then  leave 
it  to  the  Spirit  of  God  to  make  the  application.  When  we 
have  done  this,  I  think  we  have  gone  to  the  utmost  bounds  of 
our  commission." 

Lifk  and  Death.  "*  Why  are  you  reconciled  to  life?' 
Because  I  can  do  that  for  Jesus  on  earth,  which  I  cannot  do 
in  heaven  :  I  mean,  be  made  instrumental  in  bringing  some 
poor,  weary,  heavy  laden  sinners  to  find  rest  in  his  blood  and 
righteousness  ;  and  indeed,  if  our  Saviour  was  to  offer  either 
to  take  me  now,  or  to  stay  only  to  take  one  sinner  more,  I 
wou  Iddesire  to  stay  to  take  him  with  me." 

Devotion.  "  Morning  and  evening  retirement  is  certain- 
ly exceeding  good  ;  but  if,  through  weakness  of  body,  or 
frequency  of  preaching,  I  cannot  go  to  God  in  my  usual  set 
times,  I  think  my  spirit  is  not  in  bondage.  It  is  not  for  me  to 
tell  how  often  I  use  secret  prayer  ;  if  I  did  not  use  it,  nay,  if 
in  one  sense  I  did  not  pray  without  ceasing,  it  would  be  diffi- 
cult for  me  to  keep  up  that  frame  of  soul,  which,  by  the  divine 
blessing,  I  daily  enjoy.  If  the  work  of  God  prosper,  and 
your  hands  become  more  full,  you  will  then,  dear  sir,  know 
better  what  I  mean.  But  enough  of  this.  God  knows  my 
heart;  I  would  do  every  thing  I  possibly  could  to  satisfy  all 
men,  and  give  a  reason  of  the  hope  that  is  in  me  with  meek- 
ness and  fear  ;  but  I  cannot  satisfy  all  that  are  waiting  for  an 
occasion  to  find  fault :  our  Lord  could  not ;  I  therefore  despair 
of  doing  it." 

But  a  Sinner.  "  lou  are  but  a  sinner,  and  Jesus  died  for 
sinners.      Come  and  welcome  to  Jesus  Christ." 

God's  Work.  u  I  have  been  faulty  in  looking  too  much  to 
foreign  help,  and  despising  that  which  God  had  given  me. 
When  our  Lord  was  to  feed  the  multitude,  he  would  not  create 
new  bread,  but  multiplied  the  loaves  that  were  already  at  hand. 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         367 

'Ye  need  not  send  them  away,  give  ye  them  to  eat,'  said  he: 
so  say  I  to  my  dear  brethren  at  the  Tabernacle.  Work  with 
the  materials  you  have.  In  doing  the  work,  God  will  teach 
you  bow  to  do  it.  Experience  will  grow  up  with  the  work 
itself.  Thus  God  hath  dealt  with  me,  and  so  he  continues  to 
deal." 

Luther  and  Calvin.  "  Mr.  Wesley,  I  think,  is  wrong  in 
some  things,  and  Mr.  Law  wrong  also  ;  yet  I  believe  that 
both  Mr.  Law  and  Mr.  Wesley,  and  others,  with  whom  we  do 
not  agree  in  all  things,  will  shine  bright  in  glory.  It  is  best 
therefore  for  a  gospel  minister,  simply  and  powerfully  to 
preach  those  truths  he  has  been  taught  of  God,  and  to 
meddle  as  little  as  possible  with  those  who  are  children  of 
God,  though  they  should  differ  in  many  things.  This  would 
keep  the  heart  sweet,  and  at  the  same  time  not  betray  the 
truths  of  Jesus.  I  have  tried  both  the  disputing  and  the 
quiet  way,  and  find  the  latter  far  preferable  to  the  former.  I 
have  not  given  way  to  the  Moravian  brethren,  or  Mr.  Wes- 
ley, or  to  any,  whom  I  thought  in  an  error,  no  not  for  an 
hour.  But  I  think  it  best  not  to  dispute,  when  there  is  no 
probability  of  convincing.  I  pray  you,  for  Christ's  sake,  to 
take  heed  lest  your  spirit  should  be  imbittered,  when  you  are 
speaking  or  writing  for  God.  This  will  give  your  adversaries 
advantage  over  you,  and  make  people  think  your  passion 
is  the  effect  of  your  principles.  Since  I  have  been  in  England 
this  time,  Calvin's  example  has  been  very  much  pressed 
upon  me.  You  know  how  Luther  abused  him.  As  we  are 
of  Calvinistical  principles,  I  trust  we  shall,  in  this  respect,  imi- 
tate Calvin's  practice,  and  show  all  meekness  to  those  who 
may  oppose." 

Poverty.  "How  is  the  world  mistaken  about  my  circum- 
stances :  worth  nothing  myself,  embarrassed  for  others,  and 
yet  looked  upon  to  flow  in  riches  !  Our  extremity  is  God's 
opportunity." 

Head  and  Heart.  "  Though  principles  are  not  to  be 
rested  in,  yet  it  is  a  good  thing  to  have  a  clear  head,  as 
well  as  a  clean  heart.  Some  people  make  nothing  of  prin- 
ciples ;  but  why  are  they  so  zealous  in  propagating  their 
own." 

Judging.  "Do  not  think  that  all  things  the  most  refined 
Christian  in  the  world  does,  is  right;  or  that  all  principles  are 
wrong,  because  some  that  hold  them  are  too  imbittered  in  their 
spirits.     It  is  hard  for  good  men,  when  the  truths  of  God  are 


368        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

opposed,  to  keep  their  temper,  especially  at  the  first  attack. 
Nothing  but  the  all-conquering  blood  of  the  dear  Redeemer 
can  destroy  ihe  wildfire  in  the  heart." 

Usefulness.  "  I  have  the  pleasure  often  to  go  without 
the  camp,  and  to  bear  a  little  of  his  sacred  reproach,  and  I 
prefer  it  to  all  the  treasures  in  the  world.  Weak  as  I  am,  my 
Jesus  makes  me  more  than  conqueror  through  his  love.  He 
has  brought  mighty  things  to  pass  here,  and  gotten  him- 
self the  victory  in  many  hearts.  I  trust  there  is  not  a  day 
passes  but  some  poor  creature  or  another  is  plucked  as  a  brand 
out  of  the  burning.  I  wish  I  could  hear  God  was  more  in  the 
camp." 

Persecution.  "I  had  once  the  honour  of  being  publicly 
arraigned,  for  not  reading  the  Common  Prayer  in  a  meeting- 
house. At  another  time  I  was  taken  up  by  a  warrant  for  cor- 
recting a  letter,  wherein  were  these  words,  •  Shall  our  clergy 
break  the  canons  ?  '  The  prosecutions  were  unjust ;  but  there 
is  our  glory.  I  remember  when  Socrates  was  about  to  suffer, 
his  friends  grieved  that  he  suffered  unjustly.  What !  says  he, 
would  you  have  me  suffer  justly?  '  If  we  are  buffeted  for 
our  faults,  and  take  it  patiently,'  says  a  greater  than  Socrates, 
'  we  are  not  to  glory  ;  but  if  we  are  reproached  for  Christ,  and 
suffer  as  Christians,  happy  are  we.'  I  think  our  present  suf- 
ferings are  for  him." 

Sklf-Knowledge.  "I  know  what  a  dreadful  thing  it  is, 
to  carry  much  sail  without  proper  ballast,  and  to  rejoice  in  a 
false  liberty.  Joy  floating  upon  the  surface  of  an  unmortified 
heart,  is  but  of  short  continuance.  It  puff's  up,  but  doth  not 
edify.  I  thank  our  Saviour  that  he  is  showing  us  here  more 
of  our  hearts,  and  more  of  his  love." 

Christ's  Library.  "Oh  that  I  could  lie  lower!  then 
should  I  rise  higher.  Could  I  take  deeper  root  down- 
wards, then  should  I  bear  more  fruit  upwards.  I  want  to 
be  poor  in  spirit.  I  want  to  be  meek  and  lowly  in  heart.  I 
want  to  have  the  whole  mind  that  was  in  Christ  Jesus. 
Blessed  be  his  name  for  what  he  has  given  me  already. 
Blessed  be  his  name,  that  out  of  his  fulness  I  receive  grace 
for  grare.  Oh  that  my  heart  was  Christ's  library!  I  would 
not  have  one  thief  to  lodge  in  my  Redeemer's  temple. 
'  Lord,  scourge  out  every  thief,'  is  the  daily  language  of  my 
heart.  The  Lord  will  hear  my  prayer,  and  let  my  cry  come 
unto  him." 

Maxim.     "  When  I  discover  a  new  corruption,  I  am  as 


WHITE  FIELD'S     LIFE     AND     TIMES.  309 

thankful  as  a  sentinel  keeping  watch  in  a  garrison  would  be 
at  spying  a  straggling  enemy  come  near  him.  I  stand  not 
fighting  with  it  myself  in  my  own  strength,  but  run  immedi- 
ately and  tell  the  Captain  of  my  salvation.  By  the  sword  of 
his  Spirit,  he  soon  destroys  it,  and  makes  me  exceeding  happy. 
This  is  what  I  call  a  simple  looking  to  Christ.  I  know  of  no 
other  effectual  way  of  keeping  the  old  man  down,  after  he  has 
gotten  his  deadly  blow." 

Mehncthon.  "  As  Luther  said  to  Melancthon,  •  Nimis 
es  Nullus.'  You  are  kept  in  bondage  by  a  false  humility.  It 
is  good  to  see  ourselves  poor,  and  exceeding  vile  :  but 
if  that  sight  and  feeling  prevent  our  looking  up  to,  and  ex- 
erting ourselves  for,  our  dear  Saviour,  it  becomes  criminal, 
and  robs  the  soul  of  much  comfort.  I  can  speak  this 
by  dear-bought  experience.  How  often  have  I  been  kept 
from  speaking  and  acting  for  God,  by  a  sight  of  my  own  un- 
worthiness  !  but  now  I  see  that  the  more  unworthy  I  am,  the 
more  fit  to  work  for  Jesus,  because  he  will  get  much  glory 
in  working  by  such  mean  instruments  ;  and  the  more  he  has 
forgiven  me,  the  more  I  ought  to  love  and  serve  him.  Fired 
with  a  sense  of  his  unspeakable  loving-kindness,  I  dare  to  go 
out  and  tell  poor  sinners  that  a  Lamb  was  slain  for  them,  and 
that  he  will  have  mercy  on  sinners,  as  such,  of  whom,  in- 
deed, I  am  chief." 

Whitefield's  Tump.  "I  preached  to  about  ten  thousand 
on  Hampton  Common,  at  what  the  people  now  call  White- 
field's  Tump,  because  I  preached  there  first.  I  cannot  tell 
you  what  a  solemn  occasion  that  was.  I  perceive  a  great 
alteration  in  the  people  since  I  was  in  these  parts  last.  They 
did  indeed  hang  on  me  to  hear  the  word.  It  ran  and  was  glo- 
rified." 

Rams'  Horns.  "  The  rams'  horns  are  sounding  about 
Jericho  ;  surely  the  towering  walls  will  at  length  fall  down. 
But  we  must  have  patience.  He  that  believeth,  doth  not 
make  haste.     The  rams'  horns  must  go  round  seven  times." 

Jerusalem  Sinners.  "  I  purpose  once  more  to  attack  the 
prince  of  darkness  in  Moorfields,  when  the  holidays  come. 
Many  precious  souls  have  been  captivated  with  Christ's  love 
in  that  wicked  place.  Jerusalem  sinners  bring  most  glory  to 
the  Redeemer." 

Orphan  Schools.  "  I  think  I  could  be  sold  a  slave,  to 
serve  at  the  galleys,  rather  than  you  and  rav  dear  orphan 
family  should  want." 


370      whitefield's    life    and    times. 

Old  Cole.  "  I  must  acquaint  you  of  the  following  anec- 
dote of  the  old  Mr.  Cole,  a  most  venerable  dissenting  minis- 
ter, whom  I  was  always  taught  to  ridicule,  and  (with  shame  I 
write  it)  used,  when  a  boy,  to  run  into  his  meeting-house,  and 
cry,  Old  Cole!  old  Cole!  old  Cole!  Being  asked  once  by 
one  of  his  congregation,  what  business  I  would  be  of?  I  said, 
1  A  minister,  but  I  would  take  care  never  to  tell  stories  in  the 
pulpit,  like  the  old  Cole.'  About  twelve  years  afterwards,  the 
old  man  heard  me  preach  in  one  of  the  churches  at  Glouces- 
ter; and  on  my  telling  some  story  to  illustrate  the  subject  I 
was  upon,  having  been  informed  what  I  had  before  said,  made 
this  remark  to  one  of  his  elders,  ■  1  find  that  young  Whitefield 
can  now  tell  stories  as  well  as  old  Cole.'  Being  affected 
much  with  my  preaching,  he  was  as  it  were  become  young 
again ;  and  used  to  say,  when  coming  to  and  returning  from 
Barn,  '  These  are  days  of  the  Son  of  man  indeed  ! '  Nay,  he 
was  so  animated,  and  so  humbled,  that  he  used  to  subscribe 
himself,  my  curate,  and  went  about  preaching  after  me  in  the 
country  from  place  to  place.  But  one  evening,  whilst  preach- 
ing, he  was  struck  with  death,  and  then  asked  for  a  chair  to 
lean  on  till  he  concluded  his  sermon,  when  he  was  carried 
up  stairs  and  died.  0  blessed  God!  if  it  be  thy  holy  will, 
may  my  exit  be  like  his!"  The  Tump  at  Hampton  had 
been  Cole's  stand  before  it  was  called  Whitefield's  Tump. 

Party.  "  Those  who  think  I  want  to  make  a  party,  or  to 
disturb  churches,  do  not  know  me.  I  am  willing  to  hunt  in 
the  woods  after  sinners  ;  and,  according  to  the  present  tem- 
per of  my  mind,  could  be  content  that  the  name  of  George 
Whitefield  should  die,  if  thereby  the  name  of  my  dear  Re- 
deemer could  be  exalted.  Indeed,  I  am  amazed  that  he  em- 
ploys me  at  all.  But  what  shall  we  say?  He  hateth  putting 
away,  therefore  I  am  not  consumed.  Grace,  sovereign,  free 
grace  !   shall  be  all  my  song." 

Bkhind  the  Cuktain.  "  Satan  hath  desired  to  have  you, 
that  he  may  sift  you  as  wheat;  but  surely  Jesus  prays  for  you, 
though  as  it  were  behind  the  curtain." 

The  Rod.  "  O  happy  rod, 

That  brought  nic  nearer  to  my  God." 

"  I  think  I  can  say  it  is  good  to  bear  the  yoke  of  affliction  in 
youth.  It  teaches  one  to  keep  silence,  and  weans  us  from  a 
too  great  attachment  to  all  sublunary  enjoyments.     I  have  a 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       371 

few  strokes  of  my  Father's  rod  from  time  to  time,  as  well  as 
you.  But  I  find  that  his  rod  as  well  as  his  staff  do  comfort. 
I  am  a  naughty  child,  and  want  much  correction;  but  he  that 
wounds,  heals  also,  and  in  glory  we  shall  find,  that  his  loving 
correction  hath  made  us  great.  0  glory!  It  is  yonder  in 
view;  Jesus  stands  at  the  top  of  the  ladder  to  receive  us 
into  it." 

Colonel  Gardiner.  "  The  noble  Colonel  Gardiner  once 
wished  me  •  a  thriving  soul  in  a  healthy  body.'  Or  however 
it  may  be  with  the  one,  I  earnestly  pray  that  the  other  may 
prosper.  Sickness  is  often  made  use  of  as  a  means,  in  the 
hands  of  an  all-gracious  Father,  to  ripen  our  graces  and  fit 
us  for  heaven.  Through  grace,  I  can  say  it  is  good  for  me 
to  be  sick,  though  I  am  afraid  I  am  too  impatient  to  be  gone. 
Well !  He  that  cometh,  will  come,  and  cannot  tarry  long:  till 
then  may  I  be  resigned,  and  work  the  works  of  him  that  sent 
me  whilst  it  is  day,  before  the  night  cometh  when  no  man  can 
work." 

Resignation.  "  My  schemes  are  so  frequently  discon- 
certed, that  I  would  willingly  put  a  blank  into  his  hands,  to  be 
filled  up  just  as  he  pleases.  But  this  stubborn  will  would 
fain  avoid  swallowing  some  wholesome  bitter-sweets,  which 
the  all-gracious  Physician  reaches  unto  me.  Nevertheless, 
through  grace,  the  prevailing  language  of  my  heart  is,  '  Not 
my  will,  but  thine  be  done.'" 

Candour.  "Alas!  alas!  in  how  many  things  have  I 
judged  and  acted  wrong. — I  have  been  too  rash  and  hasty  in 
giving  characters,  both  of  places  and  persons.  Being  fond 
of  Scripture  language,  I  have  often  used  a  style  too  apostoli- 
cal, and  at  the  same  time  I  have  been  too  bitter  in  my  zeal. 
Wildfire  has  been  mixed  with  it,  and  I  find  that  I  frequently 
wrote  and  spoke  in  my  own  spirit,  when  I  thought  I  was  writ- 
ing and  speaking  by  the  assistance  of  the  Spirit  of  God.  I 
have  likewise  too  much  made  inward  impressions  my  rule  of 
acting,  and  too  soon  and  too  explicitly  published  what  had  been 
better  kept  in  longer,  or  told  after  my  death.  By  these  things 
I  have  given  some  wrong  touches  to  God's  ark,  and  h  irt  the 
blessed  cause  I  would  defend,  and  also  stirred  up  needless 
opposition.  This  has  humbled  me  much  since  I  have  been 
on  board,  and  made  me  think  of  a  saying  of  Mr.  Henry's, 
•  Joseph  had  more  honesty  than  he  had  policy,  or  he  never 
would  have  told  his  dreams.'  At  the  same  time.  I  cannot 
but  bless,   and  praise,  and  magnify  that  good  and  gracious 


372        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

God,  who  filled  me  with  so  much  of  his  holy  fire,  and  carried 
me,  a  poor,  weak  youth,  through  such  a  torrent  both  of  popu- 
larity and  contempt,  and  set  so  many  seals  to  my  unworthy 
ministrations.  I  bless  him  for  ripening  my  judgment  a  little 
more,  for  giving  me  to  see  and  confess,  and  I  hope  in  some 
degree  to  correct  and  amend,  some  of  my  mistakes." 

Popularity.  "  It  is  too  much  for  one  man  to  be  received 
as  I  have  been  by  thousands.  The  thoughts  of  it  lay  me 
low,  but  I  cannot  get  low  enough.  I  would  willingly  sink 
into  nothing  before  the  blessed  Jesus,  my  All  in  All." 

Nobility.  "  Paul  preached  privately  to  those  that  were 
of  reputation.  This  must  be  the  way  I  presume  of  dealing 
with  the  nobility,  who  yet  know  not  the  Lord.  Oh  that  I  may 
be  enabled,  when  called  to  preach  to  any  of  them,  so  to 
preach  as  to  win  their  souls  to  the  blessed  Jesus." 

To  Dr.  Doddridge.  "  The  Moravians  first  divided  my 
family,  then  my  parish  at  Georgia,  and  after  that  the  socie- 
ties which,  under  God,  I  was  an  instrument  of  gathering.  I 
suppose  not  less  than  four  hundred,  through  their  practices, 
have  left  the  Tabernacle.  But  I  have  been  forsaken  other- 
wise. I  have  not  had  above  a  hundred  to  hear  me,  where  I 
had  twenty  thousand;  and  hundreds  now  assemble  within  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  of  me,  who  never  come  to  see  or  speak  to 
me,  though  they  must  own  at  the  great  day  that  I  was  their 
spiritual  father.  All  this  I  find  but  little  enough  to  teach  me 
to  cease  from  man,  and  to  wean  me  from  that  too  great  fond- 
ness which  spiritual  fathers  are  apt  to  have  for  their  spiritual 
children.  Thus  blessed  Paul  was  served  ;  thus  must  all  ex- 
pect to  be  treated  who  are  of  Paul's  spirit,  and  are  honoured 
with  any  considerable  degree  of  Paul's  success.  But  I  have 
generally  observed,  that  when  one  door  of  usefulness  is  shut, 
another  opens." 

Samuel.  "  '  Surely,  (says  the  prophet  that  was  sent  to 
anoint  one  of  Jesse's  sons,)  the  Lord's  anointed  is  before 
me.'  He  guessed  several  times  ;  but  always  guessed  wrong, 
till  little  David  was  sent  for,  who  was  thought  nothing  of. 
And  if  a  prophet  was  mistaken,  when  thus  sent  in  a  peculiar 
manner,  and,  no  doubt,  particularly  engaged  in  prayer  for  di- 
rection, is  it  any  wonder  that  we  should  find  ourselves  mistak- 
en in  many  things,  even  when  we  have  been  most  earnest  with 
God  for  guidance  and  direction  ?  God  often  guides  us  by 
disappointments." 

Secrets.     "  You  know  me  too  well  to  judge  I  have  many 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       373 

secrets.  May  the  secret  of  the  Lord  be  with  me  !  and  then 
I  care  not  if  there  were  a  window  in  my  heart  for  all  mankind 
to  see  the  uprightness  of  my  intentions." 

Maxim.  m  Like  a  pure  crystal,  I  would  transmit  all  the 
glory  God  is  pleased  to  pour  upon  me,  and  never  claim  as  my 
own  what  is  his  sole  property." 

Angels.  "As  we  advance  in  the  divine  life,  we  shall  be 
more  and  more  conformed  to  those  ministering  spirits,  who, 
though  waiting  on  us  below,  do  always  behold  the  face  of  our 
heavenly  Father  above." 

Luther.  "  How  was  Paul  humbled  and  struck  down 
before  he  was  sent  forth  to  preach  the  everlasting  gospel ! 
Prayer,  temptation,  and  meditation,  says  Luther,  are  ne- 
cessary ingredients  for  a  minister.  If  God  teach  us  hu- 
mility, it  must  be  as  Gideon  taught  the  men  of  Succoth,  by 
thorns." 

Blossoms.  "  I  have  always  found  awakening  times  like 
spring  times  : — many  blossoms,  but  not  always  so  much 
fruit." 

Popularity.  "  You  judge  right,  when  you  say,  *  It  is 
your  opinion,  that  I  do  not  want  to  make  a  sect,  or  set  myself 
at  the  head  of  a  party.'  No  !  let  the  name  of  Whitefir.ld 
die,  so  that  the  cause  of  Jesus  Christ  may  live  !  {1  have  seen 
enough  of  popularity  to  be  sick  of  it ;  and  did  not  the  interest 
of  my  blessed  Master  require  my  appearing  in  public,  the 
world  should  hear  but  little  of  me  henceforward.  But  who 
can  desert  such  a  cause  1  Who,  for  fear  of  a  little  contempt 
and  suffering,  would  decline  the  service  of  such  a  Master  ? 
Oh  that  the  Lord  Jesus  may  thrust  out  many,  many  labourers 
into  his  harvest !  Surely  the  time  must  come,  when  many  of 
the  priests  also  shall  be  obedient  to  the  word.  I  wait  for  thy 
salvation,  0  Lord  !  " 

Compliment.  "  Luther  observed,  that  '  he  was  never  em- 
ployed in  any  new  thing,  but  he  was  beset  with  some  tempta- 
tions, or  visited  with  a  tit  of  sickness.'  I  only  wish  I  could 
bear  it  for  your  ladyship ;  but  then  your  crown  would  not  be 
so  bright,  nor  the  inward  purity  of  your  heart  so  great." 

Nature.  "  Nature  is  a  mere  Proteus,  and  till  renewed  by 
the  Spirit  of  God,  though  it  may  shift  its  scene,  will  be  only 
nature  still." 

A  pretty  Character.  "I  wish  the  beloved  physician 
was  more  reconciled  to  the  cross.  I  am  persuaded,  let  him 
say  what  he  pleases,  that  a  too  great  attachment  to  the  world 
b2 


374        whitefield's   life  and  times. 

makes  him  reason  as  he  does  in  many  things.  Well, — he  is 
in  good  hands.  He  must  either  come  or  be  dragged  to  the 
cross.  That  pretty  character  of  his  must  be  crucified  and 
slain  ;  and,  as  well  as  others,  he  must  be  content  (as  Mr. 
Gurnall  expresses  it)  '  to  go  to  heaven  in  a  fool's  coat.' " 

The  King.  "  Lately  his  Majesty,  seeing  Lady  Chester- 
field at  court  with  a  grave  gown,  pleasantly  asked  her, 
4  whether  Mr.  Whitefield  advised  her  to  that  colour.'  Oh 
that  all  were  clothed  in  the  bright  and  spotless  robe  of  the 
Redeemer's  righteousness  !  How  beautiful  would  they  then 
appear  in  the  sight  of  the  King  of  kings  !  " 

Self-knowledge.  "  Oh,  that  I  may  learn  from  all  I  see, 
to  desire  to  be  nothing  ;  and  to  think  it  my  highest  privilege 
to  be  an  assistant  to  all,  but  the  head  of  none  !  I  find  a  love 
of  power  sometimes  intoxicates  even  God's  own  dear  chil- 
dren, and  makes  them  to  mistake  passion  for  zeal,  and  an 
overbearing  spirit  for  an  authority  given  them  from  above. 
For  my  own  part,  I  find  it  much  easier  to  obey  than  govern, 
and  that  it  is  much  safer  to  be  trodden  underfoot,  than  to  have 
it  in  one's  power  to  serve  others  so.  This  makes  me  fly  from 
that  which,  at  our  first  setting  out,  we  are  too  apt  to  court. 
Thanks  be  to  the  Lord  of  all  lords  for  taking  any  pains  with 
ill  and  hell-deserving  me  !  I  cannot  well  buy  humility  at  too 
dear  a  rate." 

The  Hollow  Square.  "  As  long  as  we  are  below,  if  we 
have  not  one  thing  to  exercise  us,  we  shall  have  another. 
Our  trials  will  not  be  removed,  but  only  changed.  Some- 
times troubles  come  from  without,  sometimes  from  within, 
and  sometimes  from  both  together.  Sometimes  professed 
enemies,  and  sometimes  nearest  and  dearest  friends,  are  suf- 
fered to  attack  us.  But  Christ  is  the  believer's  holluic  square; 
and  if  we  keep  close  in  that,  we  are  impregnable.  Here  only 
I  find  my  refuge.  Garrisoned  in  this,  I  can  bid  defiance  to 
men  and  devils.  Let  who  will  thwart,  desert,  or  overreach, 
whilst  I  am  in  this  strong  hold,  all  their  efforts,  joined  with 
the  prince  of  darkness,  to  disturb  or  molest  me,  are  only  like 
the  throwing  chaff"  against  a  brass  wall." 

A  good  Soldier.  "  I  am  called  forth  to  battle  ;  remember 
a  poor  cowardly  soldier,  and  beg  the  Captain  of  our  salvation, 
that  I  may  have  the  honour  to  die  fighting.  I  would  have  all 
my  scars  in  my  breast.  Methinks,  1  would  not  be  wounded 
running  away,  or  skulking  into  a  hiding-place.     It  is  not  for 


whitefi  eld's    life    and    times.        375 

ministers  of  Christ  to  flee  or  be  afraid. — And  yet,  alas! — Well 
— nil  desperanduia  Chrislo  dud." 

Preachers.  "  It  has  long  since  been  my  judgment,  that 
it  would  be  best  for  many  of  the  present  preachers  to  have  a 
tutor,  and  retire  for  a  while,  and  be  content  with  preaching 
now  and  then,  till  they  were  a  little  more  improved.  Other- 
wise, I  fear  many  who  now  make  a  temporary  figure,  for  want 
of  a  proper  foundation,  will  run  themselves  out  of  breath,  will 
grow  weary  of  the  work,  and  leave  it." 

Heaven.  "Oh,  what  amazing  mysteries  will  be  unfolded, 
when  each  link  in  the  golden  chain  of  providence  and  grace 
shall  be  seen  and  scanned  by  beatified  spirits  in  the  kingdom 
of  heaven  !  Then  all  will  appear  symmetry  and  harmony,  and 
even  the  most  intricate  and  seemingly  most  contrary  dispen- 
sations, will  be  evidenced  to  be  the  result  of  infinite  and  con- 
summate wisdom,  power,  and  love.  Above  all,  there  the  be- 
liever will  see  the  infinite  depths  of  that  mystery  of  godliness, 
*  God  manifested  in  the  flesh  ; '  and  join  with  that  blessed 
choir,  who,  with  a  restless  unweariedness,  are  ever  singing 
the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb." 

The  Scotch.  "  Though  I  preached  near  eighty  times  in 
Ireland,  and  God  was  pleased  to  bless  his  word,  yet  Scotland 
seems  to  be  a  new  world  to  me.  To  see  the  people  bring  so 
many  Bibles,  turn  to  every  passage  when  I  am  expounding, 
and  hang  as  it  were  upon  me,  to  hear  every  word,  is  very  en* 
couraging." 

Letters.     "I  must  have  aliquid  Christi  in  all  my  letters." 

Uprightness.  "I  am  easy,  having  no  scheme,  no  design 
of  supplanting  or  resenting,  but,  I  trust,  a  single  eye  to  pro- 
mote the  common  salvation,  without  so  much  as  attempting  to 
set  up  a  party  for  myself.  This  is  what  my  soul  abhors. 
Being  thus  minded,  I  have  peace  ;  peace  which  the  world 
knows  nothing  of,  and  which  all  must  necessarily  be  strangers 
to,  who  are  fond  either  of  power  or  numbers.  God  be  praised 
for  the  many  strippings  I  have  met  with  :  it  is  good  for  me 
that  I  have  been  supplanted,  despised,  censured,  maligned, 
judged  by,  and  separated  from,  my  nearest,  dearest  friends. 
By  this  I  have  found  the  faithfulness  of  him,  who  is  the  Friend 
of  friends  ;  by  this  I  have  been  taught  1o  wrap  myself  in  the 
glorious  Emmanuel's  everlasting  righteousness,  and  to  be 
content  that  He,  to  whom  all  hearts  are  open,  and  all  desires 
are  known,  now  sees,  and  will  let  all  see  hereafter,  the  up- 
rightness of  my  intentions  towards  all  mankind." 


376         whitefield's   life   and   times. 

Unbelief.  "  Unbelief  is  the  womb  of  misery,  and  the 
grave  of  comfort.  Had  we  faith  but  as  a  grain  of  mustard 
seed,  how  should  we  trample  the  world,  the  flesh,  the  devil, 
death,  and  hell  under  foot !  Lord,  increase  our  faith  !  I  know 
you  say,  Amen.     Even  so,  Lord  Jesus,  Amen  and  Amen!" 

Policy.  "  AYorldly  wise  men,  serpent  like,  so  turn  and 
wind,  that  they  have  many  ways  to  slip  thiough  and  creep  out 
at,  which  simple-hearted,  single-eyed  souls  know  nothing  of, 
and  if  they  did,  could  not  follow  after  them.  Honesty  is  the 
best  policy,  and  will  in  the  end  (whether  we  seek  it  or  not)  get 
the  better  of  all." 

Such  was  the  progress  of  Whitefield's  opinions  and  max- 
ims during  the  first  ten  years  of  his  ministerial  life.  I 
need  not  say,  that  these  samples  are  not  from  his  sermons. 
They  are  all  specimens  of  the  spirited  hints  he  was  scatter- 
ing over  the  world  by  his  letters  and  conversation. 


hitefield's   life  and   times.         377 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

WHITEFIELD      REVISITING. 

It  was  a  maxim  with  Whitefield  to  return  back  in  a  few 
days,  if  possible,  upon  new  spots  where  his  first  or  second 
sermon  had  made  a  visible  impression.  On  the  same  prin- 
ciple, he  often  revisited  the  chief  scenes  of  his  early  labours  ; 
"  confirming  the  souls  of  the  disciples,"  and  confronting  his 
enemies.  In  reference  to  his  avowed  converts,  he  cherished 
much  godly  jealousy  as  well  as  brotherly  love.  He  did  not, 
like  one  of  his  friends,  pretend  to  "  know  when  persons  are 
justified."  "  It  is  a  lesson,"  he  says,  "  I  have  not  yet  learn- 
ed. There  are  so  many  stony-ground  hearers  which  receive 
the  word  with  joy,  that  I  have  determined  to  suspend  my 
judgment,  till  I  know  the  tree  by  its  fruits."  In  like  manner, 
when  he  reports  individual  cases  of  sudden  arrest  under  the 
gospel,  it  is  common  for  him  to  say,  "  I  shall  wait,  until  we 
see  how  the  physic  works." 

Thus  whilst  he  had  other  reasons  which  compelled  him  to 
travel  and  revisit  much,  he  was  also  impelled  by  solicitude 
for  the  steadfastness  and  consistency  of  his  widely  scattered 
converts.  He  would  have  looked  well  to  the  state  of  his 
herds  and  flocks,  (although  perhaps  not  so  well,)  had  he  had  no 
orphan-house  to  sustain,  and  no  college  in  contemplation. 
Witness  his  countless  letters  !  What  are  they  in  general,  but 
the  overflowing  of  his  pastoral  love  and  watchfulness  for  and 
over  the  souls  whom  he  deemed  committed  to  his  charge  1 

In  this  spirit  he  left  Ireland  to  revisit  Scotland  in  1751,  to 
talk  "  with  the  winter  as  well  as  with  the  summer  saints."  He 
landed  at  Irvine,  where  he  preached  before  the  magistrates,  at 
their  own  request.  Next  day  the  whole  city  of  Glasgow  was 
moved  at  his  coming.  "Thousands  attend  every  morning 
and  evening.  They  seem  never  to  be  weary.  I  am  follow- 
ed more  than  ever.  Scotland  seems  (still)  to  be  a  new  world 
to  me.  To  see  the  people  bring  so  many  Bibles,  and  turn  to 
every  passage  as  I  am  expounding,  and  hang  upon  me  to  hear 

33* 


378       whitefield's    life    and    times. 

every  word,  is  very  encouraging."  He  abruptly  breaks  off 
this  letter  to  the  countess  by  saying,  u  I  could  enlarge,  but  am 
straitened.  Some  ministers  >\ait  lor  me."  These  were  Mac 
Laurin,  Scott,  MacCulloch,  &c,  who  delighted  to  visit  him 
at  his  friend  Niven's,  near  the  Cross,  alter  the  labours  of  the 
day.  Mac  Laurin  was  both  the  guardian  and  champion  of  his 
reputation,  in  public  and  private  ;  and  therefore  gave  White- 
field  no  rest,  nor  himself  either,  until  he  cleared  up  all  flying 
reports.  He  would  get  at  the  facts  of  the  case,  even  if  he 
tried  his  friend's  patience.  Whitcfield  often  smiled  at  the 
Scotch  scrutiny  of  this  great  and  good  man.  It  left  no  stone 
unturned,  when  there  was  a  calumny  to  overturn,  or  a  mistake 
to  rectify. 

It  was  not,  however,  for  this  purpose  chiefly  that  these  good 
men  sought  his  company.  They  admired  and  enjoyed  his 
conversational  talents.  These  were  sprightly,  and  could  be 
humoursome  ;  and  as  he  thought  aloud,  and  had  seen  much 
of  real  life,  his  company  was  equally  instructive  and  enliven- 
ing, especially  over  his  light  supper.  He  then  unbent  the 
bow  of  his  spirit,  until  it  cooled  from  the  friction  of  the  burn- 
ing arrows  he  had  shot  during  the  day.  A  seat  at  Niven's 
table  was  then  an  honour,  as  well  as  a  privilege.  Gillies  says 
truly,  "  One  might  challenge  the  sons  of  pleasure,  with  all 
their  wit,  good  humour,  and  gaiety,  to  furnish  entertainment 
so  agreeable.  At  the  same  time  every  part  of  it  was  not 
more  agreeable  than  it  was  useful  and  edifying." 

He  was  much  pleased  to  find,  while  at  Glasgow,  that  Din- 
widdle, the  brother-in-law  of  MacCulloch  of  Cambuslang, 
had  been  appointed  governor  of  Virginia.  This  had  an  im- 
portant bearing  on  the  work  Whitefield  began  there.  He 
himself  states  it  thus.  "  In  that  province  there  has  been  for 
some  years  past  a  great  awakening,  especially  in  Hanover 
county,  and  the  counties  adjacent.  As  the  ministers  of  the 
establishment  did  not  favour  the  work,  and  the  first  awakened 
persons  put  themselves  under  the  care  of  the  New- York 
synod,  the  poor  people  were  from  time  to  time  fined,  and  very 
much  harrassed,  for  not  attending  on  the  church  service  ;  and 
as  the  awakening  was  supposed  to  be  begun  by  the  reading 
of  my  books,  at  the  instigation  of  the  council  a  proclamation 
was  issued  out  to  prohibit  itinerant  preaching.  However, 
before  I  left  Virginia,  one  Mr.  Davies  (afterwards  President) 
was  licensed,  and  settled  over  a  congregation.  Since  that 
the  awakening  has  increased,  so  that  Mr.  D writes, 


whitefield's  life   and  times.         379 

'  that  one  congregation  is  multiplied  to  seven.'  He  desires 
liberty  to  license  more  houses,  and  to  preach  occasionally  to 
all,  as  there  is  no  minister  but  himself.  This,  though  allow- 
ed of  in  England,  is  denied  in  Virginia,  which  grieves  the 
people  very  much.  The  commissary  is  one  of  the  council, 
and  with  the  rest  of  his  brethren,  I  believe  no  friend  to  the 
dissenters.     The  late  lieutenant-governour  was  like-minded. 

I  therefore  think  that  Mr   D is  raised  up  to  succeed  him, 

in  order  to  befriend  the  church  of  God,  and  the  interest  of 
Christ's  people.  They  desire  no  other  privileges  than  what 
dissenting  protestants  enjoy  in  our  native  country.  This 
I  am  persuaded  your  brother-in-law  will  be  glad  to  secure 
them." 

On  revisiting  Edinburgh,  the  only  thing  he  did  deplore  was, 
that  Mr.  Wesley  intended  to  "  set  up  societies  "  in  Scotland, 
upon  his  own  plan.  This  he  thought  "  imprudent;"  and  he 
said  so.  He  had  before  warned  Wesley,  that  the  Scotch  did 
not  want  him  ;  that  neither  his  sentiments  nor  his  system 
would  suit  the  north,  even  if  he  preached  "  like  an  angel." 
Wesley  would  not  believe  this,  and  tried  both  ;  but  the  expe- 
riment, for  him,  was  a  complete  failure.  And  it  deserved  to 
be  so,  so  far  as  he  conducted  it ;  for  he  libelled  and  carica- 
tured the  people.  True,  they  heard  him  coldly  ;  not  more 
so,  however,  than  his  own  people  at  the  Foundry  would  have 
listened  to  one  of  the  Cambuslang  Calvinists.  Besides,  his 
very  resolution  to  avoid  all  controversial  points,  was,  how- 
ever well  meant,  unwise,  in  a  country  where  he  was  so  well 
known  to  be  an  Arminian.  It  created  suspicion,  if  not  dis- 
gust, when  they  found  that  he  kept  back  his  notorious  pecu- 
liarities. The  people  would  have  listened  to  them,  and  dis- 
puted them  one  by  one  with  him,  and  counted  him  a  " pawky 
chicl"  had  he  come  off  with  the  best  of  the  argument.  But 
he  was  silent,  and  they  suspected  him  of  blinking  the  ques- 
tions at  issue  between  them.  This  is  the  real  secret  of  Wes- 
ley's failure.  His  very  candour  seemed  artifice  to  the 
Scotch. 

So  far,  they  misunderstood  him,  and  thus  did  him  injustice. 
He  also  misunderstood  and  misrepresented  them.  They 
were  not  "  unfeeling  multitudes,"  because  he  could  not  move 
them.  The  same  multitudes  had  wept  and  rejoiced  under 
Whitefield's  preaching.  He  could  bring  them  out  on  week 
days,  as  well  as  on  Sabbath,  although  Wesley  found  his  con- 
gregation "  miserably  small,"  and  said  it  verified  what  he  had 


380  whitefield's    life    and    times. 

often  heard,  "  that  the  Scotch  dearly  loved  the  word  of  the 
Lord  on  the  Lord's  day."  For,  what  did  Whitefield's  week- 
day congregations  verify  ?  At  this  time,  as  well  as  formerly, 
he  had  to  say,  M  I  now  preach  twice  daily  to  many  thousands. 
Many  of  the  best  rank  attend.  O  Edinburgh,  Edinburgh, 
surely  thou  wilt  never  be  forgotten  by  me !  The  longer  I 
stav,  the  more  eagerly  both  rich  and  poor  attend  on  the  word 
preached.  Perhaps,  for  near  twenty-eight  days  together,  in 
Glasgow  and  Edinburgh,  1  preached  to  near  10,000  saints 
every  day."  In  like  manner,  when  he  took  his  leave  at  Glas- 
gow, "  numbers  set  out  from  the  country,  by  two  or  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning." 

Whitefield  left  Scotland  in  the  autumn,  to  revisit  Georgia  ; 
becoming  again,  as  he  calls  himself,  '•  a  floating  pilgrim." 
Indeed,  he  was  fit  for  nothing  but  floating  at  the  time.  He 
had  been  much  reduced  at  Edinburgh  by  vomitings  of  blood  ; 
and  though  his  journey  to  London  recruited  him  somewhat, 
he  went  on  board  the  Antelope  very  weak.  His  voyage  was, 
however,  short  and  easy  ;  and  he  arrived  at  Georgia  in  good 
health.  His  spirit  also  was  much  cheered  by  the  flourishing 
condition  of  the  orphan-house,  and  the  flattering  prospect  of 
a  college,  now  made  plausible  by  the  grant  of  a  tract  of  excel- 
lent land.  But  whilst  enjoying  all  this,  he  heard  of  the  death 
of  Dr.  Doddridge  at  Lisbon,  and  started  off  to  his  old  work 
with  new  diligence.  He  says,  "  Dr.  Doddridge  I  find  is 
gone.  Lord  Jesus  prepare  me  to  follow  after!  1  intend  to 
begin;  for  as  yet  I  have  done  nothing.  Oh  that  I  may  begin 
in  earnest.  It  is  a  new  year.  God  quicken  my  tardy  pace, 
and  help  me  to  do  much  work  in  a  little  time.  This  is  my 
highest  ambition."  Under  this  impulse  he  revisited  South 
Carolina.  He  durst  not,  however,  risk  the  heat  of  the  sum- 
mer in  America,  and  therefore  he  returned  to  England  in  the 
spring. 

Whilst  resting  for  a  little  in  London,  he  revised  some  of 
Hervey's  manuscripts.  This  he  called,  on  his  own  part, 
"  holding  up  a  candle  to  the  sun."  With  his  usual  tact,  how- 
ever, he  foretold  their  fate.  "  Nothing  but  your  scenery  can 
screen  you.  Self  will  never  bear  to  die,  though  slain  in  so 
genteel  a  manner,  without  showing  some  resentment  against 
its  artful  murderer."  But  reviewing  did  not  suit  him  :  he 
rose  up  from  his  desk,  exclaiming,  "  Oh  that  I  could  fly  from 
pole  to  pole,  publishing  the  everlasting  gospel!"  Even 
the  transfer  of  Georgia    from  trustees  into  the    hands  of 


whitefield's   life   and  times.         381 

government,  at  this  time,  and  all  the  prospects  which  the 
change  opened  for  the  colony,  could  not  detain  him  in  Lon- 
don. 

He  was  invited  to  revisit  Ireland  ;  but  as  it  was  for  the 
purpose  of  organizing  the  Calvinistic  Methodists,  he  refused. 
"  I  hate  to  head  a  party.  It  is  absolutely  inconsistent  with 
my  other  business  to  take  upon  me  the  care  of  societies  in 
various  parts."  He,  therefore,  revisited  Bristol,  where  he 
preached  nine  times  in  four  days,  to  congregations  almost 
equal  in  numbers  to  his  Moorfields  audiences.  "  Old  times 
revived  again.  Much  good  was  done.  The  last  evening  it 
rained  a  little,  but  none  moved.  I  was  wet,  and  contracted  a 
cold  and  hoarseness  ;  but  I  trust  preaching  will  cure  me 
again."  It  did.  In  the  course  of  the  next  fortnight,  he 
preached  twenty  times,  and  travelled  three  hundred  miles  on 
horseback,  in  Wales.  He  also  attended  an  association,  at 
which  nine  clergymen,  and  nearly  forty  other  labourers,  were 
present.  His  interview  with  these  brethren  was  inspiring  as 
well  as  refreshing  to  him.  "  All  was  harmony  and  love." 
He  left  them,  more  resolved  than  ever,  to  "  expose  the  wine 
and  milk  of  the  gospel  to  sale,"  and  to  expostulate  with  sin- 
ners to  "  come  down  to  the  price,  and  be  willing  to  be  saved 
by  grace." 

On  his  return  to  London,  he  wrote,  amongst  inan^  other 
letters,  one  to  Dr.  Franklin.  Franklin,  as  well  as  Hume, 
admired  him  ;  and  for  much  the  same  reason, — his  genius  and 
power  as  an  orator.  They  cared  about  equally  little  for  the 
grand  Truth  which  fired  his  eloquence,  and  made  him  wise  to 
win  souls.  It  is  painful  to  state  this,  but  it  is  only  too  true. 
Franklin  was,  indeed,  friendly  to  the  moral  and  philanthropic 
tendency  of  Whitefield's  doctrine,  and  had  abandoned  the 
rabid  infidelity  of  Shaftesbury  and  Collins  :  but  still  all  the 
Christianity  he  put  into  his  own  epitaph,  was  only  the  hope  of 
a  resurrection ;  and  all  he  put  into  his  confession,  a  few 
weeks  before  his  death,  in  answer  to  President  Stiles,  was, 
that  he  had  doubts  as  to  the  divinity  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
and  thought  his  system  of  religion,  although  the  best,  not  free 
from  "  various  corrupting  changes."  In  this  opinion,  he 
claimed  kindred  with  most  of  the  dissenters  in  England  !  To 
the  credit  of  Dr.  Priestley,  he  contradicted  Franklin,  and  set 
the  Americans  right  on  this  point. 

Whitefield  tried  to  set  Franklin  right  upon  a  more  impor- 
tant point ;  that  divine  change  of  heart,  without  which  no  man 


382        whitefield's  life   and  times. 

can  enter  heaven.  "  I  find,"  he  says,  "  that  you  grow  more 
and  more  famous  in  the  learned  world.  As  you  have  made 
a  pretty  considerable  progress  in  the  mysteries  of  electricity, 
I  would  now  humbly  recommend  to  your  diligent,  unpre- 
judiced pursuit  and  study,  the  mystery  of  the  new  birth.  It 
is  a  most  important  and  interesting  study,  and,  when  mas- 
tered, will  richly  answer  and  repay  you  for  all  your  pains. 
One  at  whose  bar  we  are  shortly  to  appear,  hath  solemnly  de- 
clared that  without  it,  we  cannot  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 
You  will  excuse  this  freedom.  I  must  have  aliquid  Christi 
in  all  my  letters.  I  am  yet  a  willing  pilgrim  for  his  great 
name's  sake."  This  honest  letter  ought  to  have  delighted  the 
philosopher  in  his  closet,  even  more  than  the  eulogium  he 
heard  whilst  standing  behind  the  bar  of  the  House  of  Lords, 
when  Chatham  said  of  him,  "  Franklin  is  one  whom  Europe 
holds  in  high  estimation  for  his  knowledge  and  wisdom  ;  one 
who  is  an  honour,  not  to  the  English  nation  only,  but  to  hu- 
man nature." 

The  American  Biographical  Dictionary  has  done  all  it 
honestly  could,  to  rescue  the  memory  of  this  great  patriot 
from  the  charge  of  being  "  friendly  to  infidelity."  It  quotes 
an  instance  in  which  he  rebuked  a  youth,  who  was  treating 
religion  as  a  vulgar  prejudice,  and  who  had  applied  to  him 
for  counteiiuuce.  Franklin  said  emphatically,  "  Yuung  man, 
it  is  best  to  believe."  Hume  once  said  to  La  Roche,  M  Oh 
that  I  had  never  doubted  !  "  Such  expressions  prove  noth- 
ing, but  the  suspicions  of  the  skeptical.  Besides,  there  could 
have  been  no  religious  tone  about  Franklin,  if  a  raw  witling 
could  thus  have  dared  to  appeal  to  him  against  religion. 

The  most  ingenious  vindication  of  him  1  have  ever  seen,  is 
in  the  sketch  of  his  history,  in  the  American  National  Por- 
trait Gallery : — "  With  such  a  life  as  Franklin  led,  we 
should,  perhaps,  offer  an  injury  to  religion,  in  supposing 
him,  as  some  have  done,  an  enemy  to  its  prevalence,  or  a 
stranger  to  its  benign  influence."  This  is  plausible,  but 
hollow.  His  life  in  Paris  will  not  sustain  the  argument. 
True ;  he  said  there,  that  his  success  as  a  negociator  would 
have  convinced  him  of  the  being  and  government  of  a  Deity, 
had  he  ever  before  been  an  atheist.  Equally  true  it  is,  how- 
ever, that,  as  a  philosopher,  he  was  often  the  companion  of 
both  atheists  and  infidels.  Pesides,  what  was  he  upon  his 
death-bed  1  The  best  said  of  him  then  is,  "that  he  was  afraid 
he  did  not  bear  his  pains  as  he  ought,"  and  was  grateful  for  the 


wiiitefield's   life   and   times.         383 

many  blessings  he  had  received  from  the  Supreme  Being,  who 
had  raised  him  from  "a  humble  origin  to  such  consider  it  ion 
among  ;hcij."  In  a  word,  he  was  not  so  unchristian  in  his  creed 
as  Unitarians  :  he  only  doubted,  what  they  deny,  the  divinity 
of  the  Saviour. 

Franklin  died  in  1790.  Whitefield's  letter  to  him  was  in 
1752.  Their  acquaintanceship  seems  to  have  commenced 
when  the  claims  of  the  orphan-house  were  first  pleaded  in 
Philadelphia.  Then  Franklin,  although  he  approved  of  the 
object,  refused  to  contribute  to  it,  when  applied  to  in  private, 
because  he  disapproved  of  the  situation.  He  went  to  hear 
Whitefield,  therefore,  resolved  to  give  nothing.  He  had, 
however,  in  his  pocket,  a  handful  of  copper,  three  or  four  dol- 
lars, and  five  pistoles  in  gold.  As  the  sermon  began  to  kin- 
dle, Franklin  began  to  soften,  and  was  willing  to  give  the 
copper.  The  next  stroke  won  the  silver: — and  the  finishing 
stroke  was  so  admirable,  he  says,  "  that  I  emptied  my  pocket 
wholly  into  the  collector's  dish — gold  and  all !  "  This  is  a 
good  story  ;  but  he  tells  a  still  better  one  of  his  friend  Hop- 
kinson.  He  had  gone  empty-handed,  that  he  might  be  sure  to 
give  nothing.  But  he  was  melted  too,  and  tried  to  borrow 
money  of  a  quaker.  The  quaker's  answer  was,  "  At  any  other 
time,  friend,  I  would  lend  thee  freely :  but  not  now  ;  for  thee 
seems  to  me  to  be  out  of  thy  right  senses."  This  is  unlike  a 
quaker  !  And  it  was  unlike  a  Christian  for  Franklin  to  say, 
"  The  request  was  fortunately  made  to  perhaps  the  only  man 
in  the  company  who  had  the  firmness  not  to  be  affected  by  the 
preacher." 

It  is  no  pleasure  to  me  to  write  thus.  Franklin  was  White- 
field's  friend,  and  the  friend  of  liberty  and  humanity  ;  but  his 
half-homage  to  Christianity  should  be  rejected  by  her  friends. 
She  needs  not  the  compliments  of  almost  Christians.  Indeed 
they  only  tend  to  prevent  inquirers  from  becoming  altogether 
like  Paul.  It  is  all  very  well,  when  infidelity  is  to  be  put  down, 
to  appeal  to  the  great  cloud  of  scientific,  philosophical,  and 
poetical  witnesses,  who  have  complimented  Revelation  ;  but 
when  Christianity  is  to  be  enforced,  it  is  worse  than  useless 
to  appeal  to  great  names  who  only  believed  the  half  of  it. 
What  minister  would  tell  young  men,  that  they  might  safely 
stop  at  the  points  where  such  doubters  as  Franklin  stood  still? 
Not  any  "  able  minister  of  the  New  Testament."  Let  Unita- 
rianism  take  (and  welcome  !)  all  the  philosophers  and  poets 
she  can  prove  to  have  been  Arians. 


3S4        whitefield's    life    and    times. 

With  what  satisfaction  the  mind  turns  from  such  men,  to 
follow  Whitefield  to  Lutterworth,  where  he  was  drawn  by  the 
magnetic  memory  of  Wyclifle,  on  his  way  from  London  to 
visit  Scotland  again  !  There,  a  protestant  is  at  home.  The 
interest  of  this  hallowed  spot  was,  if  possible,  enhanced  to 
Whitefield — at  least  he  was  prepared  to  enjoy  it — by  meeting 
on  the  way  to  it  one  of  Doddridge's  students,  who  had  been 
converted  at  Olney,  four  years  before,  from  a  "  bitter  scoffer," 
to  be  a  young  evangelist.  He  felt  this  to  be  a  call  to  "  go  for- 
ward "  in  his  work.  He  did ;  and  preached  "  twice  in  the  fa- 
mous Wycliffe's  parish,"  with  such  effect,  that,  before  he 
reached  Scotland,  he  received  a  letter,  informing  him,  that  he 
had  won  souls  in  the  reformer's  parish.  How  enviable  his 
associations  with  Lutterworth  !  My  own  were  sadly  disturb- 
ed, when  I  passed  through  it.  I  had  watched  the  morning- 
star,  from  the  window  of  the  mail,  as  it  lingered  and  smiled 
over  the  tower  of  the  church  ;  and  had  pleased  myself  all 
night  long  with  the  hope  of  being  able  to  "  drink  of  the 
brook "  into  which  Wycliffe's  ashes  were  thrown.  The 
guard,  however,  would  not  allow  me  to  run  down  the  hill, 
whilst  the  horses  were  changing.  I  was  more  than  morti- 
fied :  but  he  was  inexorable.  When  lo  !  he  discovered  that 
one  of  the  fresh  horses  wanted  a  shoe,  and  there  was  no  other 
horse  in  the  stable  !  "  Call  the  blacksmith,"  he  cried  in 
thunder.  Oft'  I  ran  that  moment,  down  the  hill,  rejoicing  in 
the  accident.  I  leaped  the  hedge,  and  reached  the  brook. 
Alas !  it  was  covered  with  yeasty  scum  from  the  dye-houses, 
or  manufactories,  upon  its  banks.  I  could  not  drink  !  It  was 
then  only  three  o'clock  in  the  morning.  I  tasted  the  water, 
however,  by  laving  up  a  handful  where  the  slime  was  least 
offensive.  My  reader  will  pardon  this  digression  when  he 
remembers  old  Fuller's  climax.  This  brook  conveyed  the 
ashes  ofWycliffe  into  the  Avon;  the  Avon  into  the  Severn; 
and  the  Severn  into  the  main  sea ;  and  thus  the  reformer's 
ashes  became  emblems  of  his  doctrine,  which  shall  spread 
from  the  rivers  to  the  ends  of  the  earth. 

Whitefield's  associations  were  less  sublime  at  Leicester. 
He  had  turnips  thrown  at  him,  whilst  preaching  his  first  ser- 
mon. At  his  second,  however,  "  all  was  hushed,"  and  he 
"  heard  afterwards  that  good  was  done."  Then  he  revisited 
Newcastle,  and  there  he  was,  "  as  it  were,  arrested  to  stay." 
Accordingly  he  preached  four  times,  and  "  a  whole  shower 
of  blessings  descended  from  heaven  on  the  great  congrega- 
tion."     This  led  to  a  second  arrest,  and  the  shower  was 


whitefield's   life   and  times.         386 

repeated.     I  use  his  own  strong  language  concerning  Lei- 
cester and  Newcastle,    because    he    afterwards  told   Lad 
Huntingdon  that  he  had  received  "  brave  news  "  from  both 
places. 

These  arrests  by  the  way,  made  him  due  in  Scotland.  His 
invitations  to  revisit  Edinburgh  and  Glasgow,  had  been  very 
strong  ;  and  he  was  nothing  loth  to  comply.  "I  love  state  too 
well,  especially  in  Scotland,  not  to  take  it  upon  me  as  often 
as  possible,"  by  mounting  "  my  despised  throne."  There  is 
truths  as  well  as  playfulness  in  this  confession.  Whitefield 
did  love  a  little  state  now  and  then  : — who  does  not1?  Edin- 
burgh was  his  throne,  and  coronets  graced  it.  None  of  these 
things,  however,  estranged  or  diverted  him  from  humbler 
spheres,  or  lessened  his  interest  in  "  men  of  low  estate." 
Accordingly  his  letters  to  the  Countess  at  this  time,  whilst 
they  report  briefly  the  "  abundance  of  the  better  sort,"  who 
came  out  to  hear  him  twice  a  day,  in  common  with  the  multi- 
tude, dwell  chiefly  upon  the  case  of  a  poor  highland  school- 
master, who  had  been  very  useful  amongst  the  young  Gaels  ; 
and  upon  the  claims  of  a  poor  student,  who  had  not  the  means 
of  finishing  his  ministerial  education.  In  none  of  his  letters 
at  this  time,  is  there  any  reference  to  the  personal  honours 
paid  to  him,  although  they  were  neither  few  nor  small.  What 
he  mentions  with  most  complacency  is,  an  account  he  had 
received  of  "  a  dozen  young  men  that  were  awakened"  under 
his  ministry,  "  ten  years  ago,"  and  who  were  now  useful 
preachers.  This  was  emphatically  good  news  to  Whitefield  ; 
for  although  he  was  not  far-sighted,  he  saw  clearly  all  the 
bearings  of  his  own  favourite  maxim,  that  "  every  student's 
name  is  legion  ;"  "  catching  him  is  catching  thousands  ;  help- 
ing him,  helping  many." 

This  maxim  (in  a  better  form)  deserves  the  consideration 
and  adoption  of  both  ministers  and  wealthy  Christians.  Who 
can  calculate  how  many  souls  have  been  won,  or  what  trains 
of  good  have  been  set  in  perpetual  motion,  by  the  young  men, 
whom  the  Thorntons,  and  especially  the  Simeons  and  Wil- 
sons of  England,  the  Haldanes  of  Scotland,  and  the  Bethunes 
of  America,  took  by  the  hand,  and  sustained  at  college?  The 
reflection  of  that  good  is  already  bright  upon  "  the  sea  of  glass 
before  the  throne,"  and  it  will  increase  in  space  and  splen- 
dour there  until  the  end  of  time,  and  then  "  shine  as  the  stars 
for  ever  and  ever."  Go  thou,  and  do  likewise  !  Or  if  unable 
to  bear  the  entire  expense  of  a  student,  unite  some  of  your 

33 


386     whitefield's    life    and    times. 

friends  with  you.  In  like  manner,  each  of  the  voluntary 
churches  in  large  towns  should  sustain  a  young  evangelist. 
I  have  tried  the  experiment,  and  my  little  flock  have  always 
come  to  my  help. 

To  the  poor  student  who  applied  to  him  for  advice,  White- 
field  wrote,  "God  willing,  I  shall  not  be  unmindful  of  ^ou." 
Like  myself,  he  had  neither  silver  nor  gold  enough  of  his 
own  ;  but  he  had  friends,  and  he  pleaded  the  case  with  them. 
He  seems  also,  whilst  in  Edinburgh,  at  this  time,  to  have 
aimed  much  to  catch  students ;  many  of  whom  from  the 
classes,  as  well  as  from  the  divinity  hall,  came  daily  to  hear 
him.  This  was  the  case  at  Glasgow,  when  he  revisited  it. 
There,  indeed,  his  audiences  were  even  greater  than  at  Edin- 
burgh. 

An  event  had  occurred  at  the  General  Assembly  this  year, 
which  called  forth  Whitefield's  characteristic  vein  of  humour. 
The  assembly  had  deposed  Gillespie,  the  founder  of  the 
Relief  Presbytery.  "  I  wish  Mr.  Gillespie  joy,"  he  said  : 
**  the  pope  is  turned  presbyterian.  How  blind  is  Satan  ! 
What  does  he  get  by  casting  out  Christ's  servants  1  I  expect 
great  good  will  come  out  of  these  confusions.  Mr.  Gillespie 
will  do  more  good  in  a  week  now,  than  before  in  a  year." 
Whitefield's  jokes  are  not  two-edged  swords,  which  cut  both 
ways  at  once  :  but  if  his  sarcasm  against  the  Secession  cut 
deep,  this  one  against  the  Kirk  cut  deeper.  The  Babel  story, 
and  the  Babylon  story,  therefore,  if  told  at  all  again,  should 
be  told  together,  in  justice  to  Whitefield's  impartiality.  Both, 
however,  had  better  be  dropped,  when  the  Assembly  and  the 
Synod  contend  at  all. 

On  leaving  Scotland,  Whitefield  revisited  several  of  his  old 
stations  in  Yorkshire,  Lancashire,  and  Cheshire,  in  a  state  of 
mind  so  heavenly  and  absorbed,  that  he  scarcely  knew  at 
times,  he  says,  "  whether  he  had  been  in  heaven  or  on  earth." 
During  three  weeks  of  such  preaching,  he  "  never  had  more 
encouragement,  since  the  Lord  of  the  harvest  sent  him  out. 
A  gale  of  divine  influence  everywhere  attended  it."  This 
does  not  rest  on  his  own  testimony  only.  His  Leeds  friends 
brought  him  back  from  Sheffield  again,  "  to  make  bay  while 
the  sun  shone." 

It  was  now  November  :  but  the  weather  was  "  uncommon- 
ly favourable  ;  "  and,  therefore,  he  thought  it  "  a  pity  to  go 
into  winter  quarters,  whilst  work  could  be  done  in  the  fields." 
He  was,  however,  driven  in  soon  by  rain  and  sickness.     He 


whitefield's   life   and  times.  387 

expected  death  in  the  coach,  between  Northampton  and  Lon- 
don. When  he  reached  home,  he  found  his  wife  had  almost 
as  much  need  of  a  nurse  as  himself.  Next  day,  however,  he 
set  himself  to  reconsider  the  claims  of  Ireland,  and  again  re- 
fused to  go  over  to  head  a  party.  In  a  few  days,  also,  he 
resumed  his  correspondence  with  Hervey  ;  and  in  a  week  he 
was  absorbed  with  the  affairs  of  Georgia  ;  writing  now  a 
short  letter  to  a  manager  of  the  orphan-house,  and  anon  a 
long  one  to  "  dear  Nat"  one  of  the  orphans.  By  December, 
he  was  "longing  to  range  Yorkshire  again,  and  to  revisit 
Leeds."  Night  nor  day,  he  could  not  forget  the  scenes  he 
witnessed  there,  although  he  was  now  hearing  "  every  day  of 
fresh  awakenings  "  in  the  Tabernacle. 

At  this  time,  Charles  Wesley  consulted  him  on  a  delicate 
subject — separation  from  John  ;  some  of  whose  measures  he 
could  not  fall  in  with.  His  letter  I  have  never  seen.  It  em- 
barrassed Whitefield.  He  knew  not  what  to  say.  Some- 
thing, however,  rendered  it  necessary  for  him  to  say,  that  he 
thought  John  "  still  jealous  "  of  him  and  his  proceedings. 
But  lest  this  should  injure  John  with  Charles,  he  said  also, 
"  The  connexion  between  you  and  your  brother  hath  been  so 
close, — and  your  attachment  to  him  so  necessary  to  keep  up 
his  interest, — that  I  would  not  willingly,  for  the  world,  do  or 
say  any  thing  that  may  separate  such  friends.  I  have  seen 
an  end  of  all  perfection!  More  might  be  said  were  we  face 
to  face."  Wesley  was  somewhat  jealous  of  Whitefield  at 
this  time.  A  new  Tabernacle  was  now  on  the  carpet ;  and 
for  a  long  time  the  nobility  had  smiled  on  Whitefield.  Wes- 
ley felt  this.  He  could  have  taken  their  smiles  more  coolly 
than  Whitefield  ;  but  he  could  not  sustain  their  neglect  philo- 
sophically. It  was,  however,  the  contrast,  not  the  loss,  that 
mortified  him. 

When  Whitefield  agreed  to  the  plan  of  a  new  Tabernacle, 
he  resolved,  he  says,  "  on  the  principle  that  burned  children 
dread  the  fire,  not  to  begin  till  he  had  £-1000  in  hand,  and 
then  to  contract  at  a  certain  sum  for  the  whole."  His  fingers 
had  been  burned  at  Bethesda;  and  he  told  his  friends  so. 
They  took  the  hint,  and  soon  raised  upwards  of  £900 ;  and 
by  the  time  the  foundation-stone  was  laid,  the  contributions 
amounted  to  £  1 100.  Whitefield  himself  laid  the  stone,  1st 
March,  1753,  on  the  old  spot,  and  preached  from  Exod. 
*x.  24. 

To  the  credit  of  the  Wesleys,  his  kind  but  honest  letter  to 


3b8       whitefield's    life    and   times. 

Charles  not  only  prevented  their  rupture,  but  also  led  to  a 
loan  of  their  Spitalfields'  chapel,  when  the  old  Tabernacle  was 
pulled  down.  Whitefield  returned  this  compliment,  by  re- 
monstrating with  one  of  his  preachers  against  giving  offence 
or  creating  jealousies  amongst  the  friends  of  Wesley. 

When  the  time  of  the  year  came,  that  he  could  sing,  ':  Lo, 
the  winter  is  past,"  he  quitted  winter  quarters.  "  The  time 
of  the  singing  of  birds  and  the  voice  of  the  turtle  in  the  land," 
called  forth  his  voice  too.  He  revisited  Norwich  for  a  few 
days  in  April.  He  says,  that  he  "  triumphed  there  in  spite  of 
all  opposition."  What  the  opposition  was  I  do  not  know. 
One  part  of  the  triumph  Whitefield  did  not  know  on  earth. 
The  late 'Fuller  of  Kettering  was  wont  to  tell  the  following 
anecdote,  which  he  had  from  the  lips  of  the  person.  A  young 
man  who  had  gone  out  in  the  morning  on  a  frolic,  with  a  party 
of  his  companions,  would  have  his  fortune  told  by  a  gipsy 
they  met.  She  predicted  for  him  a  good  old  age,  and  lots  of 
children  and  grandchildren.  He  believed  the  prophecy,  and 
resolved  to  store  his  mind  with  such  knowledge  as  would 
make  young  folks  like  an  old  man.  "  Let  me  see,"  he  said, 
"what  I  can  acquire  first?  0,  here  is  the  famous  methodist 
preacher,  Whitefield  ;  he  is  to  preach  to-night,  they  say  ;  I 
will  go  and  hear  him."  From  these  strange  motives,  he 
really  went  to  hear.  The  sermon  was  on  John's  appeal  to 
the  Sadducees  and  Pharisees,  to  "flee  from  the  wrath  to 
come."  "  Whitefield,"  said  he,  "  described  the  Sadducean 
character  :  but  that  did  not  touch  me.  Then  the  Pharisaic  : 
that  shook  me  a  little.  At  length  he  abruptly  broke  off — 
then  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears — then  lifting  up  his  hands,  he 
cried  with  a  loud  voice,  0  my  heahers  !  the  wrath  is  to  come 
— the  wrath  is  to  come  !  These  words  sunk  into  my  heart 
like  lead  in  the  waters.  I  wept.  I  went  alone.  These 
words  followed  me  wherever  I  went.  For  days  and  weeks  I 
could  think  of  little  else  but  the  awful  words,  '  The  wrath  is 
to  come — is  to  come.'"  Fuller  said,  the  young  man  became 
"  a  considerable  preacher." 

Whitefield's  work  and  reward  during  his  revisits  in  1753, 
were  much  as  usual  for  him  ; — like  that  of  nobody  else.  I 
can  scarcely  believe  my  own  eyes,  as  I  read  the  distances, 
dates,  and  numbers  of  his  audiences,  in  his  memoranda  ;  con- 
nected as  these  are  with  frequent  and  even  startling  attacks 
of  sickness.  If  he  had  not  eagles'  wings,  his  strength  wa3 
certainly  renewed  like  the  eagle's,  even  in  a  physical  sense. 


whitefield  "s    life    and    times.         389 

Having  opened  the  new  Tabernacle,  and  preached  in  it  for 
a  short  time,  ("weeping  in  secret,"  however,  to  get  back  to 
Yorkshire,)  he  set  out  again  for  the  north.  Some  of  his 
Leeds  converts  met  him  by  the  way,  to  hurry  him  off  from 
Sheffield.  He  would  .stop  at  Rotherham,  however,  because 
the  insults  he  had  formerly  received  there,  had  tempted  him 
to  return  no  more.  Then,  he  thought  no  good  was  done. 
Now,  he  found  the  chief  family  of  his  "  bitter  persecutors  " 
converted  to  God,  and  ready  to  welcome  him  under  their 
roof.  He  became  their  guest.  Rotherham  had  signalized 
itself  by  hostility  to  Whitefield.  Both  his  person  and  charac- 
ter had  been  assailed  there  ;  and  by  none  more  than  the  late 
Thorpe  of  Masborough,  then  a  young  man.  He  was  in  the 
habit  of  meeting  his  boon  companions  in  the  ale-house,  to 
mimic  Whitefield,  and  turn  religion  into  mockery.  One 
evening  Thorpe  and  three  others  laid  a  wager,  which  of  them 
could  imitate  him  in  the  highest  style,  at  an  off-hand  sermon, 
from  the  first  text  which  should  turn  up  on  opening  the  Bible. 
The  buffoonery  of  the  three  soon  failed,  and  Thorpe  sprung 
on  the  table,  saying,  "  I  shall  beat  you  all  hollow."  The 
Bible  was  handed  to  him.  He  opened  it  at  random.  His 
eye  fell  on  the  words,  "  Except  ye  repent,  ye  shall  all  like- 
wise perish."  He  uttered  them  without  fear  or  hesitation. 
But  that  moment  his  conscience  smote  him.  It  burst  into 
flames.  It  compelled  him  to  preach  repentance  to  himself 
and  all  the  club.  He  went  on  in  spite  of  himself,  until  his 
own  hair  stood  on  end  with  horror,  and  all  the  bacchanals 
were  blanched  with  terror.  Not  a  word  was  said  of  the 
wager  when  he  came  down.  He  walked  out  in  awful  silence. 
Soon  after  this  he  joined  the  Wesleyans,  and  was  sent  out  by 
Wesley  himself  as  a  preacher,  who  wisely  stationed  him  at 
Rotherham.     He  afterwards  became  an  independent. 

When  Whitefield  arrived  at  Leeds,  he  found  that  neither 
reports,  nor  his  own  hopes  of  his  past  success,  were  exag- 
gerated. Twenty  thousand  assembled  to  hear  him  on  the 
Sabbath,  and  many  fruits  of  his  former  ministry  were  present- 
ed to  him.  Such  was  his  elevation  of  soul  now,  that  he  saw 
nothing  impossible,  which  it  was  proper  to  attempt  by  the 
preaching  of  the  gospel ;  for  even  York  could  not  resist  the 
fascination  of  his  field  preaching.  The  Methodist  thinned 
out  the  Minister,  and  overawed  the  mob.  Indeed,  so  great 
was  his  success  at  this  time  in  Yorkshire,  that  he  exceeding- 
ly regretted  his  engagement  to  visit  Scotland.    He  had  heard 

33* 


390        whitefield's  life   and  times. 

that  "poor  Scotland  was  dead "  again,  notwithstanding  the 
power  of  revivals ;  and,  therefore,  he  was  afraid  to  breathe,  a 
cold  atmosphere,  now  that  he  was  on  fire  amidst  "  a  people 
full  of  fire,"  and  enjoying  "perpetual  ( ambuslang  seasons." 
He  kept  his  promise,  however,  and  found  Scotland  not  so 
dead  as  it  was  reported.  Both  the  rich  and  the  poor  throng- 
ed to  hear  him  twice  every  day  at  Edinburgh.  "  Attention 
sat  upon  all  faces,  and  friends  came  round  like  bees,  impor- 
tuning him  to  stay  another  week."  It  was  the  same  at  Glas- 
gow. There,  the  owner  of  the  play-house  was  made  so  un- 
easy by  a  sermon  against  theatrical  amusements,  that  he  pull- 
ed the  roof  ofT  the  building,  to  put  an  end  to  them  so  far  as 
he  was  concerned.  This  was  laid  hold  of  by  Whitefield's 
enemies,  and  held  up  as  the  act  of  his  mobs.  He  says,  "  the 
devil  owed  me  a  grudge  for  speaking  against  the  play-house." 
That  grudge  appeared  in  the  following  form,  in  the  Newcas- 
tle Journal:  "We  are  informed,  that  Mr.  Whitefield,  the 
itinerant,  being  at  Glasgow,  and  preaching  near  the  play- 
house lately  built,  influenced  the  mob  so  much  against  it,  that 
they  ran  directly  from  before  him,  and  pulled  it  down  to  the 
ground.  Several  of  the  rioters  are  since  taken  up,  and  com- 
mitted to  gaol."  This  was  all  a  lie.  The  "  lately  built" 
house  was  only  a  temporary  booth,  supported  by  the  old  walls 
of  the  bishop's  palace  ; — a  strange  spot,  it  will  be  said,  for  a 
theatre.  Perhaps  not,  in  Scotland!  I  recollect,  however,  to 
feel  it  more  than  strange  at  Chester,  to  find  that  part  of  the 
abbey  had  been  turned  into  a  theatre  !  I  shrunk  from  the  dese- 
cration, notwithstanding  all  my  Scotch  prejudices. 

Whitefield  came  back  upon  York  and  Leeds,  on  leaving 
Scotland  ;  and  again  what  he  saw  and  felt  "  was  inexpressi- 
ble." The  parting  at  Leeds  was  so  overpowering,  that  he 
did  not  recover  the  shock  for  some  time.  At  Haworth  also, 
they  had  a  sacrament  at  which  thirty-five  bottles  of  wine  were 
used.  What  a  day  for  good  Grimshaw !  I  say  good;  for 
with  all  his  eccentricities,  he  was  a  noble-minded  man.  He 
made  the  wilderness  blossom  as  the  rose  around  him.  And 
God  did  not  forget  his  labours  of  love.  His  prodigal  son 
was  restored  to  him  in  heaven.  This  young  man  was  re- 
claimed ;  and  said  on  his  death-bed,  "  What  will  my  father 
say,  when  he  sees  me  in  heaven  1 " 

Altogether,  this  was,  perhaps,  Whitefield's  most  successful 
campaign  in  England,  although  I  am  unable  to  illustrate  it 
by  a  detail   of  facts.      In  the  space    of  three   months,  he 


whitefield' s    life   and    times.       391 

travailed  about  "  twelve  hundred  miles,  and  preached  a  hun- 
dred and  eighty  sermons,  to  many,  very  many  thousands  of 
souls." 

"  The  partings  "  in  Yorkshire,  he  says,  "  nearly  killed  me." 
He  does  not  write  thus,  except  when  parting  from  those  he 
hoped  to  meet  in  heaven.  Whenever  he  speaks  strongly  of 
success,  I  have  found  that  he  had  strong  reasons.  Ordinary 
success  never  inflames  nor  inflates  his  language. 

Having  rested  a  few  days  in  London,  he  started  again,  to 
make  the  most  of  the  autumn,  whilst  it  lasted.  He  went  first 
into  Northamptonshire,  where  "  a  new  scene  of  usefulness 
opened"  to  him.  It  was  the  season  of  their  feasts  in  that 
county.  He  says,  in  his  own  off-hand  style,  "  If  I  mistake 
not,  some  of  their  feasting  was  spoiled."  He  did  not  mis- 
take. I  once  saw  a  venerable  patriarch  there,  sitting  smok- 
ing his  evening  pipe  under  a  hoary  sycamore,  who  remember- 
ed having  seen  Whitefield  at  this  time.  He  had  no  recollec- 
tion of  the  sermon  ;  but  his  eye  brightened,  when  he  told  me, 
how  the  people  made  him  and  the  other  boys  keep  quiet. 
My  friend,  George  Bennet,  Esq.,  the  missionary  traveller, 
will  recollect  this  scene  under  the  sycamore  tree,  near  Long 
Buckbey.  We  must,  however,  have  loved  the  old  man,  even 
if  he  had  not  seen  Whitefield  ;  for,  like  Simeon,  he  had  seen 
Jesus. 

On  leaving  Northamptonshire,  Whitefield  revisited  Bir- 
mingham ;  and  there  "  souls  fled  to  the  gospel  like  doves  to 
their  windows."  At  Gornall,  (a  place  I  have  already  de- 
scribed,) he  heard  of  "  a  whole  company,"  who  had  been 
"  awakened  by  reading  his  sermons."  But  conversions  were 
not  his  only  reward  in  this  quarter.  Many  aged  believers 
blessed  him.  One  said  to  him,  "  I  was  comforted  when  you 
were  here  last,  and  now  I  can  go  more  cheerful  to  heaven." 
Another,  who  had  been  long  a  pilgrim,  said,  on  first  hearing 
him,  "  Wrhy,  this  is  just  the  old  story  of  fifty-five  years  ago." 
Upon  the  whole,  he  was  much  cheered  by  his  success  in 
Staffordshire.  He  would  not,  however,  give  his  judgment 
upon  it,  until  he  came,  as  he  expresses  it,  "  to  cross-plough 
the  ground  again.'' 

He  now  went  into  Cheshire,  where  his  "  way  was  prepared" 
by  the  usefulness  which  had  sprung  from  his  books.  Accord- 
ingly, at  Chester  a  great  concourse,  together  with  some  of 
the  clergy,  attended  ;  and  the  most  "  noted  rebel  in  the  town" 
was  so  alarmed  under  the  sermon,  that  he  could  not  sleep 


392        white  field's  life  and  times. 

night  or  day  for  some  time  afterwards.  At  Wrexham,  how- 
ever, and  at  Nantwich,  he  was  stoned  whilst  preaching ;  but, 
providentially,  he  "  got  off  pretty  free,"  although  some  of  his 
friends  were  "  much  pelted."  "  I  met,"  he  says,  "  with  a 
little  rough  treatment"  (he  calls  it  apostolic  treatment  in  one 
letter  ;)  "  but  what  have  pilgrims  to  expect  better  in  the  wil- 
derness." He  found  better  at  Liverpool.  There  another 
convert,  won  by  his  printed  sermons,  met  him  on  landing, 
and  took  him  home,  and  convened  great  numbers  to  hear 
him. 

It  was  now  November,  and  he  returned  to  London;  but 
not  for  winter  quarters.  In  a  few  days,  he  was  in  his  "  na- 
tive county,"  at  the  house  of  a  "  nineteen  years'  friend,"  one 
of  the  aldermen  of  Gloucester.  That  house,  he  says,  was 
made  a  Bethel  to  him  ;  and  never  before  had  he  such  "  free- 
dom" in  preaching  to  his  townsmen.  Altogether,  this  new 
freedom  was  "  so  pleasant"  to  him,  that  he  resolved  to  take 
Gloucestershire  again  on  his  way  home.  On  his  arrival  in 
Bristol,  he  found  his  usual  welcome,  and  what  surprised  him 
more — that  not  a  few  of  "  the  quality,  and  one  of  Caesar's 
household,  wished  to  hear  him  at  his  brother's  great  house." 
He  preached  to  them  twice.  On  the  Sabbath  following,  he 
opened  the  new  Tabernacle  at  Bristol.  "  It  is  large,"  he 
says,  "  but  not  half  large  enough.  Would  the  place  contain 
them,  I  believe  as  many  would  attend  as  in  London." 

It  was  now  cold  weather  ;  but  he  was  unwilling  to  return 
to  his  metropolitan  nest.  "  Winter  quarters !  "  he  says,  "  the 
word  winter  almost  shocks  me."  He,  therefore,  went  into 
Somersetshire.  How  much  he  enjoyed  this  detention  from 
London,  and  the  work  that  detained  him,  let  the  following 
fine  memorial  tell :  "  At  seven  in  the  evening  I  preached  in 
the  open  air,  to  a  great  multitude.  All  was  hushed,  and  ex- 
ceedingly solemn.  The  stars  shone  exceedingly  bright. 
Then,  if  ever,  I  saw  by  the  eye  of  faith,  Him  who  calleth 
them  all  by  their  names.  My  soul  was  filled  with  a  holy 
ambition,  and  I  longed  to  be  one  of  those,  who  shall  shine  as 
the  stars  for  ever  and  ever.  My  hands  and  my  body  were 
cold ;  but  what  are  outward  things,  when  the  soul  within  is 
warmed  by  the  love  of  God.  Oh  that  I  may  die  in  the  field." 
The  scene  of  this  apostrophe  I  once  visited.  The  air  was 
equally  cold — the  stars  equally  bright — all  nature  the  same  ; 
but  there  was  no  Whitefield !  I  had  only  fifty  persons  to 
preach  to.     However,  my  "  soul  within"  was  not  cold. 


whitefield 's    life    and    times.        303 

Whilst  thus  reluctant  to  give  in,  Whitefield  heard  of  the  ill- 
ness of  Wesley,  and  forgot  every  thing  hut  his  dying  friend. 
The  disease  was  said  to  he  "  galloping  consumption,"  and  he 
threw  up  all  his  engagements,  and  hastened  to  London.  He 
also  wrote  to  both  brothers,  before  he  could  set  out.  To 
"  poor  Mr.  Charles,"  he  wrote  thus  : — "  The  Lord  help  and 
support  you.  A  wife,  a  friend,  a  brother,  all  ill  together ! 
Well,  this  is  our  comfort — all  things  shall  work  together  for 
good  to  them  that  love  God.  May  a  double  spirit  of  the 
ascending  Elijah  descend  and  rest  upon  the  surviving  Elisha  ! 
To-morrow  I  leave  Bristol." 

The  letter  from  which  these  lines  are  transcribed,  enclosed 
one  to  Wesley  himself,  written,  as  Whitefield  says,  out  of  the 
fulness  of  his  heart.  "  The  news  and  prospect  of  your  ap- 
proaching dissolution  hath  quite  weighed  me  down.  I  pity 
myself  and  the  church  ; — but  not  you.  A  radiant  throne  awaits 
you,  and  ere  long  you  will  enter  into  your  Master's  joy.  Yon- 
der He  stands  with  a  massy  crown,  ready  to  put  on  your  head, 
amidst  an  admiring  throng  of  saints  and  angels.  But  I — poor 
I,  who  have  been  waiting  for  my  dissolution  these  nineteen 
years,  must  be  left  behind,  to  'grovel  here  below.'  Well,  this 
is  my  comfort — it  cannot  be  long  until  the  chariots  will  be 
sent  even  for  worthless  me  !  If  prayers  can  detain  you — even 
you  shall  not  leave  us  yet.  But  if  the  decree  is  gone  forth, 
that  you  must  now  fall  asleep  in  Jesus — may  he  kiss  your  soul 
away  and  give  you  to  die  in  the  embraces  of  triumphant  love. 
If  in  the  land  of  the  living,  I  hope  to  pay  my  last  respects  to 
you  next  week.  If  not — farewell  !  My  heart  is  too  big. 
Tears  trickle  down  too  fast ;  and  I  fear  you  are  too  weak  forme 
to  enlarge.  May  underneath  you  be  Christ's  everlasting  arms. 
I  commend  you  to  his  never-failing  mercy,  and  am  your  most 
affectionate,  sympathizing,  and  afflicted  younger  brother  in 
the  gospel."  Well  might,  and  well  did,  Wresley  say,  in  his  fu- 
neral sermon  for  Whitefield,  "  He  had  a  heart  susceptible  of 
the  most  generous  and  the  most  tender  friendship;  I  have  fre- 
quently thought  that  this,  of  all  others,  was  the  distinguishing 
part  of  his  character."     Funeral  Sermon. 

Whilst  Wesley  continued  in  danger,  Whitefield  remained 
in  almost  agonizing  suspense  ;  "  praying  and  inquiring,  in- 
quiring and  praying  again,  and  always  dreading  to  hear  the 
worst."  It  was,  however,  his  friend's  usefulness  to  the  church 
and  the  world,  which  made  him  thus  solicitous  ;  for  when  he 
heard  that  his  lungs  were  injured,  he  said  to  Lady  Hunting- 


394       whitefield' s    life    and    times. 

don,  "  I  cannot  wish  him  to  survive  his  usefulness.  It  is  poor 
living  to  be  nursed."  At  this  time  a  storm  of  persecution  broke 
upon  some  quarter  of  his  vineyard,  and  an  appeal  was  made 
to  his  sympathy  by  the  sufferers.  He  did  sympathize  with 
them  ;  but  told  them,  "  should  the  present  illness  of  dear  Mr. 
Wesley  issue  in  his  death,  that  will  be  a  storm  of  a  far  more 
threatening  nature."  Happily  for  the  world  and  the  church, 
Wesley  was  spared  nearly  forty  years  longer. 

Whitefield  was  cheered  in  his  winter  quarters  this  year,  by 
the  visit  of  his  friends  Tennent  and  Davies  of  America,  who 
had  come  over  to  collect  for  the  college  of  New  Jersey.  He 
entered  with  all  his  soul  into  their  object,  and  threw  all  his  in- 
fluence upon  their  side.  He  also  obtained,  in  prospect  of  his 
return  to  Georgia,  "  twenty-two  prizes ,"  as  he  calls  the  orphans 
whom  he  had  selected  to  go  with  him.  He  then  prepared  to 
sail.  The  next  chapter  contains  his  own  account  of  Lisbon  ; 
and  is  worthy  of  deep  notice  at  this  time,  whilst  popery  is  soft- 
ened by  one  class  of  politicians,  and  libelled  (if  that  be  possi- 
ble) by  another. 

It  is  curious  that  living  popery  made  Whitefield  forget,  du- 
ring his  visit,  dead  Doddridge,  at  Lisbon  :  at  least,  I  have 
found  no  letter  yet  that  shows  any  visit  to  his  tomb, 


whitefibld's    life    and    times.        395 


CHAPTER    XX. 

WHITEFIELD      IN      LISBON. 

1754. 

11  The  following  letters  were  written  about  a  twelvemonth 
ago,  and  are  now  sent  into  the  world  at  the  earnest  desire  of 
many.  If  an  infinitely  condescending  God  shall  vouchsafe 
to  bless  the  perusal  of  them,  to  excite  in  any,  either  at  home 
or  abroad,  a  more  obediential  and  zealous  thankfulness  for  the 
civil  and  religious  liberties  we  enjoy  ;  or  make  them  any 
way  instrumental  in  stirring  up  my  fellow-protestants  and 
dear  countrymen  to  exert  themselves  more  vigorously  at  this 
Critical  juncture,  against  those  who,  if  conquerors,  would 
quickly  rob  us  of  those  invaluable  blessings,  I  shall  not  repent 
that  the  publication  of  them  was  consented  to  by,  courteous 
reader,  thy  willing  servant,  for  Christ's  sake,  G.  W. 

"  By  this  time,  I  suppose,  you  have  heard  of  my  having 
been  at  Lisbon,  and  are  wondering  what  led  me  thither,  espe- 
cially since  my  last  informed  you  of  my  intention  to  go  to 
Georgia  by  way  of  New- York.  This  was  really  my  design 
at  the  time  of  my  writing  ;  but  being  afterward  called  by  Pro- 
vidence to  take  with  me  several  orphan  children,  I  thought  it 
most  advisable  to  go  and  settle  them,  and  my  other  domestic 
affairs,  at  the  orphan-house  first ;  that  I  might  visit  the  north- 
ern parts  of  America  with  more  ease  and  freedom  in  my  own 
mind. — It  happened  that  the  Success,  Captain  Thompson, 
bound  for  Port  Royal,  South  Carolina,  (which  is  not  very  far 
from  Georgia,)  was  then  almost  ready  to  sail.  I  sent  for  the 
owner,  and  finding  that  the  ship  was  to  touch  at  Lisbon  to 
unload  some  wheat,  it  occasioned  a  little  demur ;  but,  upon  se- 
cond thoughts,  believing  it  might  be  serviceable  to  me,  as  a 
preacher  and  protestant,  to  see  something  of  the  superstitions 
of  the  church  of  Rome,  I  took  my  passage  and  embarked  in 
the  Success  the  7th  of  March.  On  the  l4th  we  reached 
Cape  Finisterre  ;  on  the  15th  came  in  sight  of  the  Burlings  ; 
and  on  the  10th  anchored  safe  before  Bellem,  about  four  miles 


396        white  field's    life    and    times. 

distant  from  Lisbon  city,  the  metropolis  of  Portugal.  As  I 
knew  nobody  there,  and  had  formed  but  an  indifferent  idea  of 
the  inhabitants,  from  the  account  that  had  been  given  me  of 
them,  I  had  purposed  within  myself  to  keep  on  board,  and  go 
ashore  only  now  and  then  in  the  day-time.  But  Providence 
so  ordered  it,  that  a  gentleman  of  the  factory,  who  had  heard 
me  himself,  and  whose  brother  had  been  awakened  under 
my  ministry  several  years  ago,  immediately,  upon  hearing 
of  my  arrival,  sent  me  an  offer  of  his  house  during  my 
stay.  I  thankfully  accepted  it  ;  and  special  leave  being  pro- 
cured for  my  going  ashore,  I  was  carried  in  a  chaise  and 
pair  from  Bellem  to  Lisbon.  A  new  scene,  both  in  re- 
spect to  the  situation  of  the  place,  the  fashion  of  the 
buildings,  and  the  dress  of  the  inhabitants,  presented  itself 
all  the  way.  But  what  engaged  my  attention  most,  was  the 
frequency  of  crucifixes  and  little  images  of  the  Virgin  Mary, 
and  other  real  or  reputed  saints,  which  were  placed  almost 
in  every  street,  or  fixed  against  the  walls  of  the  houses  al- 
most at  every  turning,  with  lamps  hanging  before  them.  To 
these  I  observed  the  people  bow  as  they  passed  along  ;  and 
near  some  of  them  stood  several  little  companies,  singing 
with  great  earnestness.  This  seemed  to  me  very  odd,  and 
gave  me  an  idea  of  what  further  ecclesiastical  curiosities  would 
probably  fall  in  my  way,  if  I  should  be  detained  any  time 
here.  These  expectations  were  quickly  raised ;  for,  not  long 
after  my  arrival  at  my  new  lodgings,  (where  I  was  received 
and  entertained  with  great  gentility,  hospitality,  and  friendli- 
ness,) upon  looking  out  of  the  window,  I  saw  a  company  of 
priests  and  friars  bearing  lighted  wax  tapers,  and  attended  by 
various  sorts  of  people,  some  of  which  had  bags  and  baskets 
of  victuals  in  their  hands,  and  others  carried  provisions  upon 
their  shoulders  on  sticks  between  two.  After  these  fol- 
lowed a  mixed  multitude,  singing  with  a  very  audible  voice, 
and  addressing  the  Virgin  Mary  in  their  usual  strain,  '  Ora 
pro  nobis.'  In  this  manner  they  proceeded  to  the  prison, 
where  all  was  deposited  for  the  use  of  the  poor  persons 
confined  therein.  But  a  far  more  pompous  procession  of 
the  like  nature  (as  a  stander-by  informed  me)  passed  by 
a  few  days  after.  In  this  there  were  near  three  hundred 
Franciscan  friars,  many  of  which  (besides  porters  hired  for  the 
purpose)  were  loaded  with  a  variety  of  food  ;  and  those  who 
bore  no  burden,  carried  either  ladles  or  spoons  in  their  hands. 
Sights  of  this  nature  being  quite  a  novelty  to  me,  I  was  fond 


whitefield's   life   and  times.  397 

of  attending  as  many  of  them  as  I  could.     Two  things  con- 
curred to  make  them  more  frequent  at  this  juncture,  viz.  the 
season  of  Lent,  and  an  excessive  drought,  which  threatened 
the  total  destruction  of  the  fruits  of  the  earth.    For  the  averting 
so  great  a  judgment,  and  for  the  imploring  the  much-longed- 
for  blessing  of  rain,  daily  processions  had  been  made  from  one 
convent  or  another  for  a  considerable  time.     One  of  these  I 
saw.     It  was  looked  upon  as  a  pretty  grand  one,  being  made 
up  of  the  Carmelite  friars,  the  parish  priests,  and  a  great  num- 
ber of  what  they  call  the  brothers  of  the  order,  who  walked 
two  by  two  in  divers  habits,  holding  a  long  and  very  large 
lighted  wax  taper  in  their  right  hands.     Amidst  these  was 
carried,  upon  eight  or  ten  men's  shoulders,  a  tall  image  of  the 
Virgin  Mary,  in  a  kind  of  man's  attire  ;   for  I  think  she  had  a 
very  fine  white  wig  on  her  head,  (a  dress  she  often  appears 
in,)  and  was  much  adorned  with  jewels  and  glittering  stones. 
At  some  distance  from  the  lady,  under  a  large  canopy  of  state, 
and  supported  likewise  by  six  or  eight  persons,  came  a  priest, 
holding  in  his  hand  some  noted  relic.     After  him  followed 
several  thousands  of  people,  joining  with  the  friars  in  singing, 
tJEandem  cantilenam,  ora  pro  nobis,'  all  the  way.     Still  rain 
was  denied,  and  still  processions  were  continued.      At  length 
the  clouds  began  to  gather,  and  the  mercury  in  the  barometer 
fell  very  much.     Then  was  brought  out  a  wooden  image, 
which  they  say  never  failed.     It  was  the  figure  of  our  blessed 
Lord,  clothed  with  purple  robes,  and  crowned  with  thorns. 
I  think  they  call  him  the  Lord  of  the  passion.     Upon  his 
shoulders  he  bore  a  large  cross,  under  the  weight  of  which  he 
was  represented  as  stooping,  till  his  body  bent  almost  double. 
He  was  brought  from  the  Le  Grass  convent  in  very  great 
pomp,  and  placed  in  a  large  cathedral  church.     Being  on 
board  at  that  time,  I  lost  this  sight ;   but,  the  subsequent  even- 
ing, I  beheld  the  Seigneur  fixed  on  an  eminence  in  a  large 
cathedral  church,  near  the  altar,  surrounded  with  wax  tapers 
of  a  prodigious  size.     He  was  attended  by  many  noblemen, 
and  thousands  of  spectators  of  all  ranks  and  stations,  who 
crowded  from  every  quarter,  and,  in  their  turns,  were  admit- 
ted by  the  guards  to  come  within  the  rails  and  perform  their 
devotions.     This  they  expressed  by  kneeling,  and  kissing 
the  Seigneur's  heel,  by  putting  their  left  and  right  eye  to  it, 
and  then  touching  it  with  their  beads,  which  a  gentleman  in 
waiting  received  from  them,  and  then  returned  again.     This 
scene  was  repeated  for  three  days  successively ;  and,  during 
34 


398        whitefi  eld's  life   and  times. 

all  this  time,  the  church  and  space  before  it  was  so  thronged 
with  carriages  and  people,  that  there  was  scarce  any  passing. 
The  music  on  this  occasion  was  extremely  soft,  and  the 
church  was  illuminated  in  a  very  striking  manner.  The  third 
day  in  the  forenoon  it  rained,  and  soon  after  the  Seigneur 
was  conducted  home  in  as  great  splendour,  and  much  great- 
er rejoicing,  than  when  he  was  brought  forth.  As  my  situa- 
tion was  very  commodious,  I  saw  the  whole ;  and  afterwards 
went  and  heard  part  of  the  sermon,  which  was  delivered  be- 
fore him  in  the  church  to  which  the  Seigneur  belonged.  The 
preacher  was  full  of  action  ;  and  in  some  part  of  his  dis- 
course, (as  one  who  understood  Portuguese  informed  me,) 
pointing  to  the  image,  he  said,  '  Now  he  is  at  rest.  He  went 
out  in  justice,  but  is  returned  in  mercy.'  And  towards  the 
conclusion,  he  called  upon  the  people  to  join  with  him  in  an 
extempore  prayer.  This  they  did  with  great  fervency,  which 
was  expressed  not  only  by  repeating  it  aloud,  but  by  beating 
their  breasts,  and  clapping  their  cheeks,  and  weeping  heartily. 
To  complete  the  solemnity,  immediately  after  the  delivery  of 
the  blessing,  all  on  a  sudden,  from  the  place  near  which  the 
image  stood,  there  was  heard  a  most  soft  and  soothing 
symphony  of  music  ;  which  being  ended,  the  assembly  broke 
up,  and  I  returned  to  my  lodgings,  not  a  little  affected  to  see 
so  many  thousands  led.  away  from  the  simplicity  of  the  gos- 
pel, by  such  a  mixture  of  human  artifice  and  blind  supersti- 
tion, of  which  indeed  I  could  have  formed  no  idea,  had  I  not 
been  an  eye-witness  of  it  myself.  This  concern  was  still  in- 
creased by  what  I  heard  from  some  of  my  fellow-passengers, 
who  informed  me,  that  about  eleven  one  night,  after  I  came 
aboard,  they  not  only  heard  a  friar  preaching  most  fervently 
before  the  Seigneur,  but  also  saw  several  companies  of  peni- 
tents brought  in,  lashing  and  whipping  themselves  severely. 
How  little  unlike  this  to  those  who  cut  themselves  with 
knives  and  lancets,  and  cried  out  from  morning  till  night,  'O 
Baal,  hear  us!'  Methinks  I  hear  you  say,  And,  had  I  been 
present,  I  should  have  wished  for  the  spirit  of  an  Elijah  to — 
Hush,  my  friend — I  am  content  to  guess  at  the  rest  till  we 
meet.  In  the  mean  while,  let  us  comfort  ourselves  with  this 
thought,  that  there  is  a  season  approaching,  when  the  Lord 
God  of  Elijah  will  himself  come,  and  destroy  this  and  every 
other  species  of  antichrist,  '  by  the  breath  of  his  mouth,  and 
the  brightness  of  his  appearing,'  even  by  the  all-conquering 
manifestations  of  his  eternal  Spirit.     Whether  as  men,  Chris- 


whitefield's  life   and   times.  399 

tiatis,  and  Protestants,  wc  have  not  more  and  more  reason  to 
pray,  night  and  day,  for  the  hastening  on  of  that  glorious  and 
long  wished- for  period,  you  will  be  better  able  to  judge,  when 
I  send  you  (as  I  purpose  to  do,  if  I  have  time)  a  further  ac- 
count of  a  Lent  procession  or  two,  of  which  I  was  also  a 
spectator.  At  present  I  can  only  beg  a  continual  remem- 
brance at  a  throne  of  grace,  as  being,  my  dear  friend, . 

"  Though  some  other  business  demands  my  attention,  yet 
I  must  not  forget  the  promise  made  you  of  a  further  account 
of  the  processions  1  saw  at  Lisbon.  Some  of  those  already 
mentioned  were  extraordinary,  by  reason  of  the  great  drought ; 
but  that  which  is  to  be  the  subject  of  my  present  letter  was 
an  annual  .one  ;  it  being  always  customary  at  Lisbon  to  exhi- 
bit some  procession  or  another  every  Friday  in  Lent.  An 
intelligent  Protestant  who  stood  near  me,  was  so  good  as  to 
be  my  interpreter  of  the  dumb  show  as  it  passed  along — I  say 
dumb  show — for  you  must  know  it  was  chiefly  made  up  of 
waxen  or  wooden  images,  and  carried  on  men's  shoulders 
through  the  streets,  intending  to  represent  the  life  and  death 
of  St.  Francis,  the  founder  of  one  of  their  religious  orders. 
They  were  brought  out  from  the  Franciscan  convent,  and 
were  preceded  by  three  persons  in  scarlet  habits  with  baskets 
in  their  hands,  in  which  they  received  the  alms  of  the  specta- 
tors, for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  prisoners.  After  these  cams 
two  little  boys  in  parti-coloured  clothes,  with  wings  fixed  on 
their  shoulders,  in  imitation  of  little  angels.  Then  appeared 
the  figure  of  St.  Francis,  very  gay  and  beau-like,  as  he  used 
to  be  before  his  conversion.  In  the  next,  he  was  introduced 
under  conviction,  and  consequently  stripped  of  his  finery. 
Soon  after  this  was  exhibited  an  image  of  our  blessed  Lord 
himself,  in  a  purple  gown  with  long  black  hair,  with  St.  Fran- 
cis lying  before  him,  to  receive  his  immediate  orders.  Then 
came  the  Virgin  Mother,  (horresco  referevs,)  with  Christ  her 
Son  at  her  left  hand,  and  St.  Francis  making  his  obeisance  to 
both.  Here,  if  I  remember  aright,  he  made  his  first  appear- 
ance in  his  friar's  habit  with  his  hair  cut  short,  but  not  as  yet 
shaved  in  the  crown  of  his  head.  After  a  little  space  follow- 
ed a  mitred  cardinal  gaudily  attired,  and  before  him  lay  St, 
Francis  almost  prostrate,  in  order  to  be  confirmed  in  his 
office.  Soon  after  this  he  appears  quite  metamorphosed  into 
a  monk,  his  crown  shorn,  his  habit  black,  and  his  loins  girt 
with  a  knotted  cord.  Here  he  prays  to  our  Saviour  hanging 
on  a  cross,  that  the  marks  of  the  wounds  in  his  hands,  feet, 


400        whitefield's   life   a  n  n   times. 

and  side,  might  be  impressed  on  the  same  parts  of  his  body. 
The  prayer  is  granted  ;  blood  comes  from  the  hands,  feet,  and 
side,  and  the  saint  with  great  devotion  receives  the  impres- 
sions. This  was  represented  by  red  waxen  strings,  reaching 
from  those  parts  of  the  image  to  the  corresponding  parts  of 
St.  Francis's  body.  Upon  this  he  begins  to  do  wonders  5  and 
therefore  in  a  little  while  he  was  carried  along,  holding  up  a 
house  which  was  just  falling.  This  miracle  they  say  was 
performed  (if  my  information  be  true)  at  Madrid,  but  the  par- 
ticulars of  its  history  I  have  forgotten.  At  length  the  father 
dies,  and  is  brought  forth  lying  in  his  grave.  But  lo !  the 
briers  and  nettles  under  which  he  lay  are  turned  into  fine  and 
fragrant  flowers.  After  this  he  is  borne  along  upon  a  bier 
covered  with  a  silver  pall,  and  four  friars  lamenting  over  him. 
He  then  appears  for  the  last  time,  but  with  an  increase  of 
power  ;  for  he  was  represented  as  drawing  tormented  people 
out  of  purgatory  with  his  knotted  cord,  which,  as  you  may 
well  imagine,  the  poor  souls  catched  at  and  took  hold  of  very 
eagerly.  At  length  came  a  gorgeous  friar  under  a  splendid 
canopy,  bearing  in  his  hand  a  piece  of  the  holy  cross.  After 
him  followed  two  more  little  winged  boys,  and  then  a  long 
train  of  fat  and  well-favoured  Franciscans,  with  their  calceis 
fcnestratis,  as  Erasmus  calls  them  ;  and  so  the  procession 
ended.  Methinks  I  hear  you  say,  It  is  full  time.  And  so  say  I 
— for  as  the  sight  itself  disgusted  me,  so  I  am  persuaded  the 
bare  narration  of  it,  though  ever  so  short,  cannot  be  very  plea- 
sant to  you,  who  1  know  abhor  every  thing  that  savours  of 
superstition  and  idolatry.  We  will  therefore  take  our  leave 
of  St.  Francis,  whose  procession  was  in  the  day-time  ;  but  I 
must  tell  you  it  is  only  to  inform  you  of  another  of  a  much 
more  awful  and  shocking  nature,  which  I  saw  afterwards  by 
night.  It  was  about  ten  o'clock,  when  being  deeply  engaged 
in  conversation  with  my  kind  host,  in  came  an  Englishman, 
and  told  me  in  all  haste,  that  he  had  seen  a  train  of  near  two 
hundred  penitents  passing  along,  and  that  in  all  probability  I 
might  be  gratified  with  the  same  sight,  if  I  hastened  to  a  place 
whither  he  would  conduct  me.  I  very  readily  obeyed  the 
summons,  and,  as  curiosity  quickened  my  pace,  we  soon  came 
up  with  some  of  those  poor  creatures,  who  were  then  making 
a  halt,  and  kneeling  in  the  street,  whilst  a  friar  from  a  high 
cross,  with  an  image  of  our  Lord  crucified  in  his  hand,  was 
preaching  to  them  and  the  populace,  with  great  vehemence. 
Sermon  being  ended,  the  penitents  who  had  already  been 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        401 

preached  to,  went  forwards,  and  several  companies  followed 
after  with  their  respective  preaching  friars  at  their  head  bear- 
ing crucifixes.  These  they  pointed  to  and  brandished  fre- 
quently, and  the  hearers  as  frequently  beat  their  breasts  and 
clapped  their  cheeks.  At  proper  pauses  they  stopped  and 
prayed ;  and  one  of  them,  more  zealous  than  the  rest,  before 
the  king's  palace,  sounded  out  the  word  penitentia  through  a 
speaking  trumpet.  The  penitents  themselves  were  clothed 
and  covered  all  over  with  white  linen  vestments,  only  holes 
were  made  for  their  eyes  to  peep  out  at.  All  were  barefoot- 
ed, and  all  had  long  heavy  chains  fastened  to  their  ancles, 
which,  when  dragged  along  the  street,  made  a  dismal  rattling: 
but  though  alike  in  dress,  yet  in  otner  respects  there  was 
great  variety  amongst  them  ;  for  some  carried  great  stones 
on  their  backs,  and  others  dead  men's  bones  and  sculls  in 
their  hands.  Some  bore  large  and  seemingly  very  heavy 
crosses  upon  their  shoulders,  whilst  others  had  their  arms  ex- 
tended quite  wide,  or  carried  a  bow  full  of  swords  with  the 
points  downwards.  Most  of  them  whipped  and  lashed  them- 
selves, some  with  cords,  and  others  with  flat  bits  of  iron.  It 
being  a  moonshine  night  I  could  see  them  quite  well ;  and,  in- 
deed, some  of  them  struck  so  hard  that  I  perceived  that  their 
backs  (left  bare  on  purpose  to  be  slashed)  were  quite  red,  and 
swollen  very  much  by  the  violence  and  repetition  of  the  blows. 
Had  my  dear  friend  been  there,  he  would  have  joined  with  me 
in  saying,  that  the  whole  scene  was  horrible — so  horrible, 
that,  being  informed  it  was  to  be  continued  till  morning,  I  was 
glad  to  return  from  whence  I  came,  about  midnight.  Had 
you  been  with  me,  I  know  you  would  have  joined  in  praising 
and  gratefully  adoring  the  Lord  of  all  lords,  not  only  for  the 
great  wonders  of  the  Reformation,  but  also  for  that  glorious 
deliverance  wrought  out  for  us  in  stopping  of  our  late  unna- 
tural rebellion.  Oh  with  what  a  mighty  Spirit  and  power 
from  on  high,  must  Luther,  Calvin,  Melancthon,  Zuinglius, 
and  those  glorious  Reformers,  be  necessarily  endued,  who 
dared  first  openly  to  oppose  and  stem  such  a  torrent  of  su- 
perstition and  spiritual  tyranny! — And  what  gratitude  owe  we 
to  him,  who,  under  God,  was  instrumental  in  saving  us  from 
the  return  of  such  spiritual  slavery,  and  such  blind  obedience 
to  a  papal  power  !  To  have  had  a  cardinal  for  our  king — a 
cardinal,  if  not  born,  yet  from  his  infancy  nursed  up,  at  Rome 
. — a  cardinal,  one  of  whose  sons  is  advanced  to  the  same  ec- 
clesiastical dignity,  and  both  under  the  strongest  obligations 

34* 


402        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

to  support  the  interest  of  that  church  whose  superstitions,  as 
well  as  political  state  principles,  they  have  sucked  in  and  im- 
bibed even  from  their  infancy.  But,  blessed  be  God,  the 
snare  is  broken,  and  we  are  delivered.  Oh,  for  protestant 
practices  to  be  added  to  protestant  principles  !  Oh,  for  an 
obediential  acknowledgment  to  the  ever  blessed  God  for  our 
repeated  deliverances  !  But  alas  !  pardon  me,  my  dear  friend, 
I  stop  to  weep — adieu — I  cannot  enlarge,  but  leaving  you  to 
guess  from  what  source  my  tears  flow,  I  must  hasten  to  sub- 
scribe myself,  ■ . 

"  Providence  still   detains  us  at   Lisbon,  and  therefore  I 
know  you  will   be  inquiring  what  more  news  from  thence? 
Truly,  as  extraordinary  as  ever — for  I  have  now  seen  the  so- 
lemnities  of  a  Holy   Thursday,  which  is  a  very  high  day  in 
this  metropolis,    and   particularly  remarkable  for  the  grand 
illuminations  of  the  churches,  and  the  king's  washing  twelve 
poor  men's  feet. — Through  the  interest  of  a  friend,  I  got  ad- 
mittance into  the  gallery  where  the  ceremony  was  performed. 
It  was  large  and  hung   with  tapestry — one  piece  of  which 
represented  the  humble  Jesus  washing  the  feet  of  his  disci- 
ples.    Before  this,  upon  a  small  eminence,  sat  twelve  men  in 
black.     At  the  upper  end,  and  several  other  parts  of  the  gal- 
lery, were  side-boards,  with  gold  and    silver   large  basins  and 
ewers,  most  curiously  wrought,  and  near  these  a  large  table, 
covered  with  a  variety  of  dishes,  all  cold,  set  off"  and  garnish- 
ed  after   the   Portuguese   fashion.     Public  high  mass  being 
over,   his  Majesty  came  in  attended  with  his   nobles,  who 
seemed  to  me  to  look  like  so  many  Roman  senators.  The  very 
act  of  washing  the  feet  I  did  not  get  in  time  enough  to  see  ; 
but  that  being  ended,  several  of  the  young  noblemen  served 
up  the  dishes   to   the  king's  brother  and  uncles  ;  these  again 
handed  them  to  his  Majesty,  who  gave,  I  think,  twelve  of  them 
in  all,  to  each  poor  man.     Every  thing  was  carried  on   with 
a  great  deal  of  decency  and  good  humour.     The  young  noble- 
men served  very  cheerfully,  their  seniors  looked  quite  pleased, 
and  the  king  and  his  royal  relations  behaved  in  a  very  polite, 
easy  manner.     Upon  the    whole   though,  as  you  may  easily 
guess,  it  was  not  an  exact  copy  of  the  tapestry,  yet  as  the 
poor   men's  clothes  and  food,  when  sold,  came  to  about  ten 
moidores,  and  as  there  was  little  mixture  of  superstition  in  it,  I 
cannot  say  but  I  was  as  well  pleased  with  my  morning's  enter- 
tainment as  with  any  thing  I  had  met  with  since  my  arrival. 
I  believe  the  whole  took  up  near  two  hours.     After  dinner  we 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         403 

went  to  see  the  churches,  but  the  magnificence  and  sumptu- 
ousnesa  of  the  furniture,  on  this  occasion,  cannot  well  be  ex- 
pressed.      Many  of   them  were   hung  with  purple   damask, 
trimmed  with  gold.     In  one  of  them  there  was  a  solid  silver 
altar  of  several   yards  circumference,  and  near  twelve  steps 
high;  and   in  another,  a  gold  one,  still  more  magnificent,  of 
about   the  same   dimensions.     Its   basis    was  studded    with 
many  precious  stones,  and  near  the  top  were  placed  silver 
images  in  representation  of  angels.     Each  step  was  filled  with 
large  silver  candlesticks,  with  wax  tapers  in  them,  which,  go- 
ing up  by  a  regular  ascent   till  they  formed  themselves  into  a 
pyramid,   made   a  most  glittering  and  splendid  blaze.     The 
great  altars  also  of  the  other  churches  were  illuminated  most 
profusely,  and  silver  pots    of  artificial    flowers,  with  a  large 
wax  taper  between  each,  were  fixed  all  round  several  of  them. 
Between  these  were  large  paintings  in  black  and  white,  repre- 
senting the  different  parts  of  our  Saviour's  passion.     And,  in 
short,  all  was  so  magnificently,  so  superstitiously  grand,  that 
I  am  persuaded  several  thousands  of  pounds  would  not  defray 
the  expenses  of  this  one  day.     Go  which  way  you  would, 
nothing  was  to  be  seen  but  illuminations  within  and  hurry 
without.     For  all  persons,  the  crowned  heads  themselves  not 
excepted,  are  obliged  on  this  day  to  visit  seven  churches  or  al- 
tars, in  imitation,  as  is  supposed,  of  our  Lord's  being  hurried 
from  one  tribunal  to  another  before  he  was  condemned  to  be 
hung  upon  the  cross.     I  saw  the  queen  pass  by  in  great  state 
to  visit  three  of  them.     Velvet  cushions  were  carried  before 
her  Majesty,  and  boards  laid  along  the  streets  for  herself  and 
retinue  to  walk   upon.     Guards  attended  before  and  behind, 
and  thousands  of  spectators  stood  on  each  side  to  gaze  at 
them  as  they  passed  along.     Being  desirous  of  seeing  the 
manner  of  their  entrance,   we  got  into  the  last  church  before 
they  came.     It  was  that  of  St.  Domingo,  where  was  the  gold 
altar  before  mentioned,  and  at  which  her  Majesty  and  train 
knelt  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour.     All  the  while  the  Domin- 
ican friars  sung  most  surprisingly  sweet.     But  as  I  stood  near 
the  altar  over  against  the   great   door,   I   must  confess  my 
very  inmost  soul  was  struck  with  a  secret  horror,  when,  upon 
looking  up,  I  saw  over  the  front  of  the  great  window  of  the 
church  the  heads  of  many  hundred  Jews,  painted  on  canvass, 
who  had  been  condemned   (by  what  they  call  the  Holy  Inqui- 
sition) and  carried  out  from  that  church  to  be  burnt.     Strange 
way,  this,  of  compelling  people  to  come  in  !     Such  was  not 


401       whitefield's    life    and    times. 

thy  method,  O  meek  and  compassionate  Lamb  of  God!  Thou 
earnest  not  to  destroy  men's  lives,  but  to  save  them.  But 
bigotry  is  as  cruel  as  the  grave.  It  knows  no  remorse. 
From  all  its  bitter  and  dire  effects,  good  Lord,  deliver  us. 
But  to  return  to  the  queen  : — Having  performed  her  devo- 
tions she  departed,  and  went  in  a  coach  of  state,  I  believe, 
directly  from  the  church  to  her  palace,  and,  without  doubt, 
sufficiently  fatigued.  For  besides  walking  through  the  streets 
to  the  several  churches,  her  Majesty  also,  and  the  princesses, 
had  been  engaged  in  waiting  upon  and  washing  the  feet  of 
twelve  poor  women,  in  as  public  a  manner  as  the  king.  In 
our  walk  home,  we  met  his  Majesty  with  his  brother  and  two 
uncles,  attended  only  with  a  few  noblemen  in  black  velvet, 
and  a  i'ew  guards  without  halberts.  I  suppose  he  was  return- 
ing from  his  last  church,  and,  as  one  may  well  imagine,  equally 
fatigued  with  his  royal  consort  and  daughters.  When  church 
and  state  thus  combine  to  be  nursing  fathers  and  nursing 
mothers  to  superstition,  is  it  any  wonder  that  its  credit  and 
influence  is  so  diffusive  among  the  populace  ?  O  Britain  ! 
Britain  !  hadst  thou  but  zeal  proportionable  to  thy  know- 
ledge, and  inward  purity  adequate  to  the  simplicity  of  thy  ex- 
ternal worship,  in  what  a  happy  and  God-like  situation  wouldst 
thou  be  !  Here  I  could  weep  again.  Again  I  leave  you  to 
guess  the  cause  ;  and  if  I  can  send  you  one  more  letter  of  a 
like  nature  before  we  leave  this  place,  it  is  all  you  must  expect 

from, . 

"  After  the  news  sent  you  in  my  last,  I  thought  our  Lisbon 
correspondence  would  entirely  have  been  put  a  stop  to.  For 
upon  returning  to  my  lodgings,  (as  weary,  I  believe,  as  others 
that  had  been  running  from  church  to  church  all  day,)  word 
was  sent  me,  that  our  ship  would  certainly  sail  next  morning. 
This  news,  I  own,  was  not  altogether  agreeable  to  me,  be- 
cause I  wanted  to  see  the  conclusion  of  the  Lent  solemnities. 
However,  I  made  ready  ;  and  having  despatched  my  private 
affairs  the  overnight,  was  conducted  very  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, by  my  kind  host,  down  to  Bellem,  where  the  ship  lay. 
AVe  parted.  The  wind  promised  to  be  fair;  but,  dying  away, 
I  very  eagerly  went  ashore  once  more.  But  how  was  the 
scene  changed  !  Before,  all  used  to  be  noise  and  hurry  : — 
now  all  was  hushed  and  shut  up  in  the  most  awful  and  pro- 
found silence  !  No  clock  or  bell  had  been  heard  since  yes- 
terday noon,  and  scarce  a  person  was  to  be  seen  in  the  street 
all  the  way  to  Lisbon.     About  two  in  the  afternoon  we  got  to 


whitefield's    life    and    times. 


405 


the  place  where,  I  had  heard  some  days  ago,  an  extraordinary 
scene  was  to  be  exhibited.  Can  you  guess  what  it  was? 
Perhaps  not.  Why  then,  I  will  tell  you.  '  It  was  the  cruci- 
fixion of  the  Son  of  God,  represented  partly  by  dumb  images, 
and  partly  by  living  persons,  in  a  large  church  belonging  to 
the  convent  of  St.  De  Beato.'  Several  thousands  crowded 
into  it ;  some  of  which,  as  I  was  told,  had  been  waiting 
there  ever  since  six  in  the  morning.  Through  the  kind 
interposition  and  assistance  of  a  protestant  or  two,  I  was 
not  only  admitted  into  the  church,  but  was  very  commo- 
diously  situated  to  view  the  whole  performance.  We  had 
not  waited  long  before  the  curtain  was  drawn  up.  Immedi- 
ately, upon  a  high  scaffold,  hung  in  the  front  with  black  baize, 
anH  behind  with  silk  purple  damask  laced  with  gold,  was  ex- 
hibited to  our  view  an  image  of  the  Lord  Jesus  at  full  length, 
crowned  with  thorns,  and  nailed  on  a  cross,  betwen  two 
figures  of  like  dimensions,  representing  the  two  thieves.  At 
a  little  distance  on  the  right  hand  was  placed,  an  image  of 
the  Virgin  Mary,  in  plain  long  ruffles,  and  a  kind  of  widow- 
weeds.  Her  veil  was  purple  silk,  and  she  had  a  wire  glory 
round  her  head.  At  the  foot  of  the  cross  lay,  in  a  mournful, 
pensive  posture,  a  living  man,  dressed  in  women's  clothes, 
who  personated  Mary  Magdalene;  and  not  far  off  stood  a 
young  man,  in  imitation  of  the  beloved  disciple.  He  was  dress- 
ed in  a  loose  green  silk  vesture,  and  bob-wig.  His  eyes 
were  fixed  on  the  cross,  and  his  two  hands  a  little  extended. 
On  each  side,  near  the  front  of  the  stage  stood  two  sentinels 
in  buff,  with  formidable  caps  and  long  beards  ;  and  directly 
in  the  front  stood  another,  yet  more  formidable,  with  a 
large  target  in  his  hand.  We  may  suppose  him  to  be  the 
Roman  centurion.  To  complete  the  scene,  from  behind  the 
purple  hangings  came  out  about  twenty  little  purple-vested 
winged  boys,  two  by  two,  each  bearing  a  lighted  wax  taper  in 
his  hand,  and  a  crimson  and  gold  cap  on  his  head.  At  their 
entrance  upon  the  stage  they  gently  bowed  their  heads  to 
the  spectators,  then  kneeled  and  made  obeisance,  first  to  the 
image  on  the  cross,  and  then  to  that  of  the  Virgin  Mary. 
When  risen  they  bowed  to  each  other,  and  then  took  their 
respective  places  over  against  one  another,  on  steps  as- 
signed for  them  at  the  front  of  the  stage.  Opposite  to  this, 
at  a  few  yards'  distance,  stood  a  black  friar,  in  a  pulpit  hung 
in  mourning.  For  a  while  he  paused,  and  then,  breaking  si- 
lence, gradually  lifted  up  his  voice,  till  it  was  extended  to  a 


406        whitefield's    life    and    times. 

pretty  high  pitch,  though,  I  think,  scarce  high  enough  for  so 
large  an  auditory.  After  he  had  proceeded  in  his  discourse 
about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  a  confused  noise  was  heard  near 
the  front  great  door  ;  and,  upon  turning  my  head,  I  saw  four 
long-bearded  men,  two  of  which  carried  a  ladder  on  their 
shoulders,  and  after  them  followed  two  more  with  large  gilt 
dishes  in  their  hands,  full  of  linen,  spices,  &c.  These  (as  I 
imagined)  were  the  representatives  of  Nicodemus  and  Joseph 
of  Arimathea.  On  a  signal  given  from  the  pulpit,  they  ad- 
vanced towards  the  steps  of  the  scaffold.  But  upon  their 
very  first  attempting  to  mount  it,  at  the  watchful  centurion's 
nod,  the  observant  soldiers  made  a  pass  at  them,  and  present- 
ed the  points  of  their  javelins  directly  to  their  breasts.  They 
are  repulsed.  Upon  this  a  letter  from  Pilate  is  produced. 
The  centurion  reads  it,  shakes  his  head,  and  with  looks  that 
bespoke  a  forced  compliance,  beckons  to  the  sentinels  to  with- 
draw their  arms.  Leave  being  thus  obtained,  they  ascend  ; 
and  having  paid  their  homage,  by  kneeling  first  to  the  image 
on  the  cross,  and  then  to  the  Virgin  Mary,  they  retired  to  the 
back  of  the  stage.  Still  the  preacher  continued  declaiming, 
or  rather  (as  was  said)  explaining  the  mournful  scene.  Mag- 
dalene persists  in  wringing  her  hands,  and  variously  express- 
ing her  personated  sorrow  ;  whilst  John  (seemingly  regard- 
less of  all  besides)  stood  gazing  on  the  crucified  figure.  By 
this  time  it  was  near  three  o'clock,  and  therefore  proper  for 
the  scene  to  begin  to  close.  The  ladders  are  ascended,  the 
superscription  and  crown  of  thorns  taken  off,  long  white  rol- 
lers put  round  the  arms  of  the  image,  and  then  the  nails  knock- 
ed out  which  fastened  the  hands  and  feet.  Here  Ma:y  Mag- 
dalene looks  most  languishing,  and  John,  if  possible,  stands 
more  thunderstruck  than  before.  The  orator  lifts  up  his 
voice,  and  almost  all  the  hearers  expressed  concern  by  weep- 
ing, beating  their  breasts,  and  smiting  their  cheeks.  At 
length  the  body  is  gently  let  down.  Magdalene  eyes  it,  and, 
gradually  rising,  receives  the  feet  into  her  wide-spread  hand- 
kerchief; whilst  John,  (who  hitherto  stood  motionless  like  a 
statue,)  as  the  body  came  nearer  the  ground,  with  an  eager- 
ness that  bespoke  the  intense  affection  of  a  sympathizing 
friend,  runs  towards  the  cross,  seizes  the  upper  part  of  it  into 
his  clasping  arms,  and,  with  his  disguised  fellow-mourner, 
helps  to  bear  it  away.  And  here  the  play  should  end,  was  I 
not  afraid  you  would  be  angry  with  me  if  I  did  not  give  you 
an  account  of  the  last  act,  by  telling  you  what  became  of  the 


WHITEFIELD'S    LIFE     AND    TIMES.  107 

corpse  after  it  was  taken  down.  Great  preparations  wnre 
made  for  its  interment.  It  was  wrapped  in  linen,  and  spices, 
&c.,  and  being  laid  upon  a  bier  richly  hung,  was  afterwards 
(MHrried  round  the  churchyard  in  grand  procession.  The  imao-e 
of  the  Virgin  Mary  was  chief  mourner,  and  John  and  Magda- 
lene, with  a  whole  troop  of  friars  with  wax  tapers  in  their 
hands,  followed  after.  Determined  to  see  the  whole,  I  wait- 
ed its  return  ;  and  in  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  the  corpse 
was  brought  in,  and  deposited  in  an  open  sepulchre  prepared 
for  the  purpose  ;  but  not  before  a  priest,  accompanied  by 
several  of  the  same  order  in  splendid  vestments,  had  perfumed 
it  with  incense,  sung  to  and  kneeled  before  it.  John  and 
Magdalene  attended  the  obsequies  ;  but  the  image  of  the 
Virgin  Mary  was  carried  away  and  placed  upon  the  front  of 
the  stage,  in  order  to  be  kissed,  adored,  and  worshipped  by 
the  people  This  I  saw  them  do  with  the  utmost  eagerness 
and  reverence.  And  thus  ended  this  Good  Friday's  tragi- 
comical, superstitious,  idolatrous  droll.  A  droll  which, 
whilst  I  saw,  as  well  as  now  whilst  I  am  describing  it,  excited 
in  me  a  high  indignation.  Surely,  thought  I,  whilst  attending 
on  such  a  scene  of  mock  devotion,  if  ever,  now  is  the  dear 
Lord  Jesus  crucified  afresh  ;  and  I  could  then,  and  even 
now,  think  of  no  other  plea  for  the  poor  beguiled  devotees, 
than  that  which  suffering  Innocence  put  up  himself  for  his 
enemies,  when  actually  hanging  upon  the  cross,  viz.  '  Fa- 
ther, forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do.'  There 
was  but  one  thing  wanting  to  raise  one's  resentment  to  the 
highest  pitch,  and  that  was  for  one  of  the  soldiers  to  have 
pierced  the  side  of  the  image  upon  the  cross.  This,  in  all 
probability,  you  have  heard  hath  actually  been  done  in  other 
places,  and,  with  a  little  more  art,  might,  I  think,  have  been 
performed  here.  Doubtless  it  would  have  afforded  the  preach- 
er as  good,  if  not  a  better,  opportunity  of  working  upon  the 
passions  of  his  auditory,  than  the  taking  down  of  the  super- 
scription and  the  crown  of  thorns,  and  wiping  the  head  with 
a  blooded  cloth,  and  afterwards  exposing  it  to  the  view  of  the 
people ;  all  which  I  saw  done  before  the  body  was  let  down. 
But  alas!  my  dear  friend,  how  mean  is  that  eloquence,  and 
how  entirely  destitute  of  the  demonstration  of  the  Spirit,  and 
of  a  divine  power,  must  that  oratory  necessarily  be,  that  stands 
in  need  of  such  a  train  of  superstitious  pageantry  to  render  it 
impressive !  Think  you,  my  dear  friend,  that  the  apostle 
Paul  used  or  needed  any  such  artifices  to  excite  the  passions 


408  whitefield's   life  and   times. 

of  the  people  of  Galatia,  amongst  whom,'as  he  himself  informs 
us,  'Jesus  Christ  was  crucified,  and  evidently  set  forth?' 
But  thus  it  is,  and  thus  it  will  be,  when  simplicity  and  spirit- 
uality are  banished  from  our  religious  offices,  and  artifice  and 
idolatry  "seated  in  their  room.  I  am  well  aware  that  the  Ro- 
manists deny  the  charge  of  idolatry;  but  after  having  seen 
what  I  have  seen  this  day,  as  well  as  at  sundry  other  times 
since  my  arrival  here,  I  cannot  help  thinking  but  a  person 
must  be  capable  of  making  more  than  metaphysical  distinc- 
tions, and  deal  in  very  abstract  ideas  indeed,  fairly  to  evade 
the  charge.  If  '  weighed  in  the  balances  of  the  sanctuary,' 
I  am  positive  the  scale  must  turn  on  the  protestant  side.  But 
such  a  balance  these  poor  people  are  not  permitted  to  make 
use  of!  Doth  not  your  heart  bleed  for  them?  Mine  doth,  I 
am  sure;  and  I  believe  would  do  so  more  and  more,  was  I  to 
stay  longer,  and  see  what  they  call  their  hallelujah  and  grand 
devotions  on  Easter  day.  But  that  scene  is  denied  me.  The 
wind  is  fair,  and  I  must  away.  Follow  me  with  your  prayers, 
and  believe  me  to  be,  ." 


whitefield's   life   and   times.         409 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

WHITEFIELD    AND     THE     LONDON     MORAVIANS. 

Although  Whitefield  derived  neither  the  good  nor  the  evil 
from  the  Moravians  that  Wesley  did,  his  personal  history 
would  be  incomplete,  and  his  Times  would  lack  a  slight  fea- 
ture of  their  true  character,  were  I  to  pass  over  his  connexion 
with  that  singular  people, — then  so  ill  represented,  in  some 
respects,  in  London.  It  is,  however,  with  great  reluctance  I 
touch  the  subject.  I  am  dissolving  (so  far)  a  charm,  which 
has  often  soothed  and  cheered  me,  when  I  have  been  soured 
or  saddened  by  looking  too  closely  at  human  nature.  Oh, 
what  have  the  tyrants  of  conscience  to  answer  for !  Truly 
"  oppression  makes  a  wise  man  mad."  Had  the  first  quakers 
been  free  to  follow  the  Lamb  by  the  lamp  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, and  to  reject  "  Roman  candles,"  they  and  their  posterity 
might  have  been  as  useful  to  the  church  as  they  have  been  to 
the  world.  In  like  manner,  had  the  Bohemian  church  not 
been  deprived  of  Huss  and  Jerome,  nor  denounced  for  read- 
ing WyclifFe,  the  descendants  of  her  martyrs  might  have  had 
no  startling  singularities  of  sentiment  or  ceremony.  The 
Moravians  were  drawn  into  both,  because  their  fathers  were 
driven  into  unnatural  and  trying  positions,  which  inevitably 
created  fancies,  and  called  forth  rhapsodies. 

Time,  happily,  has  so  pruned  both  the  wild  luxuriance  and 
the  worldly  policy  of  Moravianism,  that  it  is  almost  impossi- 
ble to  believe  now,  that  Molther  ever  taught  the  doctrines,  or 
Nitschman  ever  sung  the  hymns,  or  ZinzendorfF  ever  sanc- 
tioned the  practices  in  London,  which  Whitefield  and  Wesley 
exposed.  These  things,  however,  ought  not  to  be  forgotten. 
Their  memory  is  the  safeguard  against  their  recurrence.  It 
is  wanted  too  as  ballast,  by  the  Moravian  church  ;  just  as  all 
churches  need  to  remember  the  blots  upon  their  escutcheon. 
Dr.  Southey  says,  "few  religious  communities  may  look  back 
upon  their  history  with  so  much  satisfaction  as  the  united 
brethren."  This  is  true  of  their  general  history ;  but  it  is 
equally  true  that  their  vagaries  in  London  did  them  no  credit. 
35 


410         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

These  first  alarmed,  and  then  alienated,  both  Watts  and  Dodd- 
ridge, as  well  as  ^  bitefield  and  \\  cslcy.  Doddridge  was 
right  too  in  supposing,  that  "  they  produced  the  same  senti- 
ments in  the  archbishop  of  Canterbury."  Potter  could  for- 
give much  to  a  people  whom  he  recognized  as  an  "  apostolical 
and  episcopal  chinch  ;"  but  he  seems  to  have  doubted  even- 
tually, whether  Zinzendorff  was  elected  their  bishop,  "plau- 
dente  tuto  cce/esli  choro."  At  least  his  arms  were  not  so 
"open"  to  him  as  at  first.  And  it  was  well  for  the  Mora- 
vians, that  good  men  both  took  and  sounded  an  alarm,  from 
the  exposures  made  by  Rimius.  It  taught  them,  as  Dr.  Sou- 
they  well  says,  to  correct  their  perilous  error  in  time  ; "  and 
since,  "  they  have  continued  not  merely  to  live  without  re- 
proach, but  to  enjoy  in  a  greater  degree  than  any  other  sect, 
the  general  good  opinion  of  every  other  religious  commu- 
nity." Both  Wesley  and  YYhitefield  contributed  not  a  little  to 
this  improvement  by  the  influence  they  had  over  Ingham, 
Dellamotte,  and  Gambold,  and  by  their  writings.  The  man- 
ner in  which  Whitefield  dealt  with  the  subject  will  be  best 
seen  in  his  own  letter  to  Zinzendorff. 

He  remonstrated  thus  with  the  count,  as  the  lord  advocate 
of  the  umtas  fratruai.  "  For  these  many  years  past  I  have 
been  a  silent,  and  I  trust  I  can  say,  an  impartial,  observer  of 
the  progress  and  effects  of  Moravianism,  both  in  England 
and  America;  but  such  shocking  things  have  been  lately 
brought  to  our  ears,  and  offences  have  swelled  to  such  an 
enormous  bulk,  that  a  real  regard  for  my  king  and  my  coun- 
try, and,  if  I  am  not  greatly  mistaken,  a  disinterested  love  for 
the  ever-blessed  Jesus,  that  King  of  kings,  and  the  church 
which  he  hath  purchased  with  his  own  blood,  will  not  sutler 
me  to  be  silent  any  longer. 

"  Pardon  me,  therefore,  my  lord,  if  at  length,  though  with 
great  regret,  as  the  Searcher  of  hearts  knows,  I  am  constrain- 
ed to  inform  your  lordship,  that  you,  together  with  some  of 
your  leading  brethren,  have  been  unhappily  instrumental  in 
misguiding  many  real,  simple,  honest-hearted  Christians  ;  of 
distressing,  if  not  totally  ruining,  numerous  families  ;  and  in- 
troducing a  whole  farrago  of  superstitious,  not  to  say  idola- 
trous, fopperies  into  the  English  nation. 

"  For  my  own  part,  my  lord,  notwithstanding  the  folio  that 
was  published  (I  presume  under  your  lordship's  direction) 
about  three  years  ago,  I  am  as  much  at  a  loss  as  ever,  to 
know  what  were  the  principles  and  usages  of  the  ancient  Mo- 


whitefield's   life   and   times.         411 

ravian  church  ;  but  if  she  was  originally  attired  in  the  same 
garb,  in  which  she  hath  appeared  of  late  amongst  many  true- 
hearted,  though  deluded  Protestants,  she  is  not  that  simple, 
apostolical  church  the  English  brethren  were  made  to  believe 
about  twelve  years  ago.  Sure  I  am,  that  we  can  find  no 
traces  of  many  of  her  present  practices  in  the  yet  more  an- 
cient, I  mean  the  primitive  churches,  and  which  we  all  know 
were  really  under  an  immediate  and  truly  apostolical  in- 
spection. 

"  Will  your  lordship  be  pleased  to  give  me  leave  to  descend 
to  a  few  particulars  ?  Pray,  my  lord,  what  instances  have  we 
of  the  first  Christians  walking  round  the  graves  of  their  de- 
ceased friends  on  Easter-day,  attended  with  hautboys,  trum- 
pets, French  horns,  violins,  and  other  kinds  of  musical  instru- 
ments ?  Or  where  have  we  the  least  mention  made  of  pictures 
of  particular  persons  being  brought  into  the  first  Christian  as- 
semblies, and  of  candles  being  placed  behind  them,  in  order 
to  give  a  transparent  view  of  the  figures  1  Where  was  it  ever 
known,  that  the  picture  of  the  apostle  Paul,  representing  him 
handing  a  gentleman  and  lady  up  to  the  side  of  Jesus  Christ, 
was  ever  introduced  into  the  primitive  love-feasts? 

"  Or  do  we  ever  hear,  my  lord,  of  incense,  or  something 
like  it,  being  burned  for  Paul,  in  order  to  perfume  the  room 
before  he  made  his  entrance  among  the  brethren  1  Or  can  it 
be  supposed  that  he,  who,  together  with  Barnabas,  so  eagerly 
repelled  the  Lycaonians,  when  they  brought  oxen  and  gar- 
lands, in  order  to  sacrifice  unto  them,  would  ever  have  suffer- 
ed such  things  to  be  done  for  him,  without  expressing  his  ab- 
horrence and  detestation  of  them?  And  yet  your  lordship 
knows  both  these  have  been  done  for  you,  and  suffered  by  you, 
without  your  having  shown,  as  far  as  I  can  hear,  the  least 
dislike. 

"  Again,  my  lord,  I  beg  leave  to  inquire,  whether  we  hear 
any  thing  in  Scripture  of  elderesses  or  deaconesses  of  the 
apostolical  churches  seating  themselves  before  a  table,  cover- 
ed with  artificial  flowers,  and  against  that  a  little  altar  sur- 
rounded with  wax  tapers,  on  which  stood  a  cross,  composed 
either  of  mock  or  real  diamonds,  or  other  glittering  stones  ? 
And  yet  your  lordship  must  be  sensible  this  was  done  in  Fet- 
ter Lane  chapel,  for  Mrs.  Hannah  Nitschman,  the  present 
general  elderess  of  your  congregation,  with  this  addition,  that 
all  the  sisters  were  seated,  clothed  in  white,  and  with  German 
caps ;  the  organ  also  illuminated  with  three  pyramids  of  wax 


412        whitefield's  life  and  times. 

tapers,  each  of  which  was  tied  with  a  red  riband  ;  and  over 
the  head  of  the  general  elderess,  was  placed  her  own  picture, 
and  over  that  (horrcsco  referens)  the  picture  of  the  Son  of 
God.  A  goodly  sight,  this,  my  lord,  for  a  company  of  Eng- 
lish Protestants  to  behold  !  Alas  !  to  what  a  long  series  of 
childish  and  superstitious  devotions,  and  unscriptural  imposi- 
tions, must  they  have  been  habituated,  before  they  could  sit 
silent  and  tame  spectators  of  such  an  antichristian  scene. 
Surely,  had  Gideon,  though  but  an  Old  Testament  saint,  been 
present,  he  would  have  risen  and  pulled  down  this,  as  he  for- 
merly did  his  father's  altar.  Or  had  even  that  meek  man 
Moses  been  there,  I  cannot  help  thinking,  but  he  would  have 
addressed  your  lordship,  partly  at  least,  in  the  words  with 
which  he  addressed  his  brother  Aaron,  'What  did  this  people 
unto  thee,  that  thou  hast  introduced  such  superstitious  cus- 
toms among  them  1 ' 

"A  like  scene  to  this  was  exhibited  by  the  single  brethren, 
in  a  room  of  their  house  at  Hatton  Garden.  One  of  them, 
who  helped  to  furnish  it,  gave  me  the  following  account. 
The  floor  was  covered  with  sand  and  moss,  and  in  the  middle 
of  it  was  paved  a  star  of  different  coloured  pebbles,  upon  that 
was  placed  a  gilded  dove,  which  spouted  water  out  of  its 
mouth  into  a  vessel  prepared  for  its  reception,  which  was 
curiously  decked  with  artificial  leaves  and  flags ;  the  room 
was  hung  with  moss  and  shells.  The  count,  his  son,  and  son- 
in-law,  in  honour  of  whom  all  this  was  done,  with  Mrs.  Hannah 
Nitschman,  and  Mr.  Peter  Boehler,  and  some  other  labour- 
ers, were  present.  These  were  seated  under  an  alcove,  sup- 
ported by  columns  made  of  pasteboard,  and  over  their  heads 
was  painted  an  oval,  an  imitation  of  marble,  containing  the 
ciphers  of  Count  Zinzendorff's  family.  Upon  a  side  table, 
was  a  little  altar  covered  with  shells,  and  on  each  side  of  the 
altar  was  a  bloody  heart,  out  of  or  near  which  proceeded 
flames.  The  room  Mas  illuminated  with  wax  tapers,  and 
musicians  placed  in  an  adjacent  apartment,  while  the  compa- 
ny performed  their  devotions,  and  regaled  themselves  with 
sweatmeats,  coffee,  tea,  and  wine.  After  this  the  labourers 
departed,  and  the  single  brethren  were  admitted  in.  I  am 
told,  that  most,  if  not  all,  of  these  leading  persons  were  pre- 
sent also  at  the  celebration  of  Mrs.  Hannah  Nitschman's 
birth-day. 

"  But  this  is  not  all ;  I  have  another  question  to  propose  to 
your  lordship.     Pray,  my  lord,  did  any  of  the  apostles  or  lead- 


WHITEFI  ELD'S      LIFE     AND      TIMES.  413 

ers  of  the  primitive  churches,  ever  usurp  an  authority,  not 
only  ovoi  people's  consciences,  but  their  properties  also  1  Or 
draw  in  the  members  of  their  respective  congregations  to  dis- 
pose of  whole  patrimonies  at  once,  or  to  be  bound  for  thou- 
sands of  pounds  more  than  they  well  knew  they  were  worth  ? 
And  yet  your  lordship  knows  this  has  been  done  again  and 
again,  in  order  to  serve  the  purposes  of  the  brethren  for  seve- 
ral years  last  past ;  and  that  too,  at,  or  very  near  the  time, 
when,  in  order  to  procure  an  act  in  their  favour  to  go  abroad, 
(which  now  appears  to  be  rather  a  scheme  to  settle  at  home,) 
they  boasted  to  an  English  parliament,  how  immensely  rich 
they  were. 

"  Your  lordship  cannot  but  be  sensible,  that  at  this  present 
time  you  stand  indebted  to  sundry  persons  to  the  value  of 
forty  thousand  pounds  sterling  ;  and  unless  some  of  your 
brethren  had  agreed  to  stay  six  years  for  about  twenty  thou- 
sand pounds,  due  to  them  ;  (though  after  the  expiration  of 
that  term,  as  they  have  no  security,  in  all  probability  they  will 
be  just  where  they  are  now ;)  and  if  the  other  creditors  also, 
upon  consideration  of  some  bonds  given,  and  mortgages  made 
for  principal  and  interest,  had  not  agreed  to  stay  four  years, 
for  twenty-one  thousand  pounds  more,  many  of  the  English 
brethren,  who,  out  of  I  know  not  what  kind  of  infatuation, 
have  not  only  given  their  all,  but  have  been  bound  for  thou- 
sands more  than  they  are  able  to  pay,  must  either  have  imme- 
diately become  bankrupts,  and  thereby  the  creditors  perhaps 
not  have  had  a  shilling  in  the  pound,  or  have  been  obliged  to 
shut  up  their  shops,  go  to  prison,  or  be  turned  out  into  the  wide 
world,  to  the  utter  ruin  of  themselves  and  families. 

"  I  have  been  told  of  a  very  singular  expedient  made  use  of 
by  Mr.  Peter  Boehler,  one  of  the  brethren's  bishops,  in  order 
to  strengthen  the  faith  and  to  raise  the  drooping  spirits  of  Mr. 
William  Bell,  who  hath  unhappily  been  drawn  in  (with  several 
others)  to  be  one  of  their  agents.  It  was  this  .  It  being  Mr. 
Bell's  birth-day,  he  was  sent  for  from  his  house  in  N evil's 
Alley,  Fetter  Lane  ;  but  for  a  while,  having  had  some  words 
with  Mr.  Boehler,  he  refused  to  come :  at  length  he  complied, 
and  was  introduced  into  a  hall,  in  the  same  alley,  where  was 
placed  an  artificial  mountain,  which,  upon  singing  a  particular 
verse,  was  made  to  fall  down,  and  then  behind  it  was  discov- 
ered an  illumination,  representing  Jesus  Christ  and  Mr.  Bell, 
sitting  very  near,  or  embracing  each  other  ;  and  out  of  the 
clouds  was  also  represented  plenty  of  money  falling  round 

35* 


414         whitefield's   life   and   times. 

Mr.  Bell  and  the  Saviour.  This  story  appeared  to  me  so  in- 
credible at  the  first  hearing,  that,  though  I  could  not  doubt 
the  veracity  of  the  relater,  yet  tearing  he  might  be  misinform- 
ed, I  sent  for  him  again,  and  he  assured  me,  that  Mr.  Bell  told 
this  story  himself  some  time  ago  in  company,  and  a  person  of 
good  reputation  of  that  company  related  it  to  an  acquaintance 
of  mine.  May  God  grant  him  and  all  others  who  have  been 
undesignedly  concerned,  a  more  sure  and  stable  prop  for  their 
faith,  even  his  own  word,  in  which  he  causes  his  people  to 
trust!  Then,  and  not  till  then,  even  upon  the  greatest  emer- 
gency, they  may  without  any  fanciful  representations,  boldly 
say,  '  Who  art  thou,  O  great  mountain  ?  before  the  Lord 
Jesus,  our  all-conquering  Zerubbabel,  thou  shalt  become 
a  plain.' 

"  The  distress  and  anguish  of  mind  that  hundreds  have  been 
involved  in  upon  this  very  account,  is,  I  believe,  unspeakable. 
And  the  bare  reflection  upon  it,  whilst  I  am  writing,  makes 
my  heart  almost  to  bleed  within  me.  Who,  who,  but  them- 
selves, my  lord,  can  tell  the  late  perplexity  of  their  minds, 
who  have  been  already  arrested,  or  obliged  to  break  oft*  their 
respective  partnerships  1  Or  what  words  can  express  the 
great  concern  which  Mr.  Freeman  and  Mr.  Thomas  Grace 
must  have  been  necessarily  under,  when  they  found  that  bills 
had  been  drawn  in  their  name,  unknown  to  them,  to  the  value 
of  forty-eight  thousand  pounds  1  And  how  pitiable,  my  lord, 
must  the  present  circumstances  of  young  Mr.  Rhodes  be,  who, 
to  stop  a  little  of  the  above-mentioned  gap,  was  prevailed  on, 
(your  lordship  knows  by  whom,)  about  eighteen  months  ago, 
to  sell  his  estate  of  above  four  hundred  pounds  a  year,  and 
went  or  was  sent  off  very  lately,  as  I  am  assured,  to  France, 
(leaving  a  destitute  mother  behind  him,)  and  only  with  twenty- 
five  pounds,  for  the  payment  of  which  he  left  his  watch,  bu- 
reau, horse,  and  saddle  ! 

"  These  are  but  a  few  instances,  my  lord,  amongst  many, 
indeed,  too,  too  many,  that  might  be  given.  The  brethren's 
agents,  and  those  concerned  with  them,  can  best  tell  what 
what  horrid  equivocations,  untruths,  and  low  artifices  have 
been  used,  to  procure  money,  at  high  interest,  wherever  it 
was  to  be  had,  in  order  to  keep  up  the  brethren's  credit ;  and 
in  that  poor,  lame  manner,  it  hath  been  kept  up  for  a  consi- 
derable time.  Was  the  whole  scene  to  be  opened,  I  believe 
every  one  would  be  of  opinion,  that  such  an  ecclesiastical 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       415 

project  never  was  heard  of  before  in  any  part  of  his  Majesty's 
dominions. 

"  Of  this,  my  lord,  the  Royal  Exchange  hath  long  since 
rung  ;  and  if  the  same  part  hath  been  acted  abroad,  how  many 
families  must  have  been  ruined  there,  and  how  many  more 
may  yet  be  ruined,  in  order  to  fill  up  the  present  English 
chasm  ;  and  consequently,  what  loads  of  guilt  must  needs  lie 
at  the  door  of  somebody  !  Surely,  the  Lord  of  all  lords, 
whose  eyes  are  like  a  flame  of  fire,  and  who  requires  truth  in 
the  inward  parts,  will  one  day  or  other  visit  for  these  things, 
by  bringing  to  light  the  hidden  things  of  daikncss,  and  thereby 
making  manifest  the  counsels  of  the  heart ! 

"  I  need  not  inform  your  lordship,  that  Babels  are  generally 
suffered  to  be  built  pretty  high,  before  God  comes  down  to 
confound  the  language  of  the  builders.  If  knaves  are  em- 
ployed, (as  commonly  they  are,)  God's  honour  is  concerned 
to  discover  them.  And  if  any  of  his  own  children  are  unde- 
signedly drawn  in,  (which  is  frequently  the  case,)  He,  who 
hath  promised  not  to  suffer  them  to  be  tempted  above  what 
they  are  able  to  bear,  will,  in  mercy,  some  way  or  other,  re- 
buke the  tempter,  and  make  a  way  for  them  to  escape.  It  is 
true,  this,  in  public  concerns,  may  sometimes  expose  them  to 
a  little  worldly  contempt,  and  for  a  while  they  may  seemingly 
be  crushed  under  the  rubbish  of  the  fallen  fabric,  but  even  this 
shall  work  together  for  their  good  ;  and  happy  will  it  be  for 
them,  if,  after  all,  they  at  length  learn  this  important  lesson, 
'That  it  is  dangerous,  upon  any  pretence  whatsoever,  to  go 
from  the  written  word,  or  give  up  their  consciences  to  the 
guidance  of  any  man,  or  body  of  men,  under  heaven.'  This, 
your  lordship  well  knows,  is  what  weak  and  unstable  souls  are 
too  apt  to  do  ;  and  artful  and  designing  men,  who  are  fond  of 
power,  especially  if  naturally  they  are  of  an  ambitious  turn  of 
mind,  easily  catch  at  the  pleasing  bait.  But  honesty,  my 
lord,  will  be  found  to  be  the  best  policy  after  all  ;  and,  there- 
fore, God  forbid  that  any  who  call  themselves  the  followers  of 
the  Lamb,  should  glory  in  any  thing  save  the  cross  of  Christ. 

"At  present,  I  shall  add  no  more,  but  earnestly  say  Amen, 
to  that  part  of  the  brethren's  litany,  however  exceptionable  in 
other  respects,  '  From  untimely  projects,  and  from  unhappily 
becoming  great,  keep  us,  our  good  Lord  and  God  ! '  " 

This  controversy  had  one  effect,  which  White  field  did  not 
anticipate,  nor  can  I  fully  explain  ;  it  led  Cennick  to  quit  him, 
and  to  go  over  to  the  Moravians  :  a  proof,  however,  that  the 


416      whitefield's    life    and    times. 

Moravians,  as  a  body,  were  not  perverted  by  their  leaders.  A 
large  party  went  over  with  Cennick  on  this  occasion,  amongst 
whom  was  Mrs.  Greenfield,  one  of  Queen  Caroline's  ladies. 
She  is  the  person  called  in  Whitefield's  Letters,  "  one  of 
Caesar's  household."  He  visited  her  at  St.  James's  Palace, 
and  found  her  "-ready  to  show  out."  Indeed  she  had  ;  for 
the  palace  was  then  ringing  about  her.  But  whilst  he  thought 
she  would  make  a  glorious  martyr,  if  she  stood  firm,  he  saw 
the  peril  of  her  position,  and  said  to  her  friend  Lady  Hunting- 
don, "Till  Mrs.  Greenfield  can  meet  with  company  really  in 
earnest,  the  closer  she  keeps  to  her  God  and  her  book  the 
better."  She  retired  from  the  court  on  a  pension  ;  and  though 
she  joined  the  Moravians,  she  continued  to  correspond  with 
"Whitefield,  and  to  hear  him  at  the  house  of  the  Countess. 
She  also  parted  with  her  favourite  servant,  to  furnish  the  Ta- 
bernacle house  at  Bristol  with  a  suitable  house-keeper.  I 
ought  to  add,  that  Whitefield's  letter  to  ZinzendorfT,  "  cured 
many  of  the  fopperies  and  faults  it  exposed." 


whitefield's   life  and   times.         417 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

WHITEFIELD'S      INFLUENCE      IN     AMERICA. 


FIRST   PART. 


Whitefield's  former  visits  to  America,  although  not  un- 
welcome to  her  spiritual  churches,  were,  in  some  measure, 
unsought  for  by  them,  as  churches.  I  mean,  he  consulted 
his  own  sense  of  duty,  and  the  interest  of  his  orphan-house, 
and  the  urgency  of  private  friends,  rather  than  public  opinion, 
on  either  side  of  the  Atlantic.  On  the  present  occasion,  be- 
sides his  ordinary  reasons  for  ranging  America,  he  had  many 
pressing  invitations  •'  to  cross-plough  "  his  old  grounds,  and 
to  water  where  he  had  planted.  He  had  also  a  home  reason. 
He  wished  to  come  back  upon  England  and  Scotland  again, 
in  the  power  of  an  American  unction  ;  a  savour  he  had  found 
to  be  "  of  life  unto  life,"  in  all  his  movements  through  his  na- 
tive land.  Hence  he  said  on  his  voyage,  "  After  a  short  tour 
through  America,  I  hope  to  see  my  native  country,  and  begin 
to  begin  to  ramble  after  poor  sinners  again."  It  was  there 
he  learned  to  range,  and  there  he  discovered  how  much  he 
could  range,  as  well  as  how  much  good  ranging  did  ;  and 
therefore  he  was  unwilling  to  forget  the  lesson.  And  no 
wonder.  Had  he  not  hunted  in  the  American  woods  and 
wilds,  he  would  not  have  done  nor  dared  what  he  attempted  at 
home.  Indeed,  every  foreign  place  was  a  school,  where  he 
studied  for  home.  And  he  was  an  apt  scholar.  It  must 
have  been  a  strange  place  indeed,  where  Whitefield  could  pick 
up  nothing  useful.  Every  where  his  maxim  was,  "  I  would 
fain  be  one  of  Christ's  bees,  and  learn  to  extract  honey  from 
every  flower  ;  " — whilst  every  where  his  feeling  was,  "Alas,  I 
am  a  drone,  and  deserve  to  be  stung  out  of  God's  hive." 

He  arrived  in  safety  with  his  orphans  at  Bethesda,  after  an 
easy  voyage  ;  and  found  himself  at  the  head  of  a  family  of  a 


418  "W  HIT  E  F  I  E  L  D  'S     LIFE     AND    TIMES. 

hundred  and  six  members,  "  black  and  white,"  all  dependent 
upon  his  personal  efforts  and  influence.  But  he  had  no  fears. 
He  regarded  his  charge  as  a  stewardship  of  Providence,  and 
hoped  and  begged  accordingly,  nothing  doubting.  Having 
arranged  his  household,  he  started  to  his  work,  and  traversed 
Carolina.  It  was  now  high  summer,  and  besides  the  oppres- 
sive heat,  "great  thunders,  violent  lightnings,  and  heavy  rains," 
frequently  beat  upon  him  as  he  journeyed  from  town  to  town  ; 
but  his  health  improved  and  his  spirits  rose  as  he  advanced. 
One  reason  of  this  was  that  he  chiefly  travelled  by  night.  "  In 
spite  of  thunder,  lightning,  rain,  and  heat,  God  is  pleased,"  he 
says,  "to  hold  my  soul  in  life,  and  to  let  me  see  his  glorious 
work  prosper  in  my  unworthy  hands."  One  part  of  this  pros- 
perity was,  the  conversion  of  a  clergyman,  and  the  prospect  of 
a  faithful  successor  to  Smith  at  Charleston — from  Jiethesda  ! 
This  was  the  first  student  sent  forth  from  the  orphan-house. 
I  can  give  no  account  of  him :  but  he  must  have  had  consider- 
able ministerial  talent,  to  commend  himself  to  Josiah  Smith's 
flock.  The  reader  remembers  his  sermon  on  Whitefield's 
character. 

Having  "  fully  preached  the  gospel"  in  the  regions  of  Caro- 
lina, he  went  to  New- York  and  Philadelphia,  and  found  at  both, 
"  prejudices  removed,  and  a  more  effectual  door  than  ever," 
for  labour.  At  this  time,  however,  he  seems  to  have  lost  his 
horse  ;  and  thus  to  have  been  dependent  upon  his  friends  for 
conveyances.  He  had  been  so  before,  and  remembered  that 
neither  all  horses  nor  all  drivers  were  alike.  To  one  of 
his  former  whips  he  wrote,  "  You  must  bring  a  chaise  ; — I 
have  no  horse  ; — I  will  once  more  venture  your  throwing  me 
down."  This  was  on  the  way  to  Philadelphia.  There  he  was 
thrown  down  suddenly,  but  not  from  a  chaise.  He  was  seized 
"  with  a  violent  cholera  morbus"  and  soon  brought  to  the  gates 
of  death.  He  had,  he  said,  "  all  his  cables  out,  ready  to  cast 
anchor  within  the  port  "  of  eternity  ;  but  he  was  soon  "  at  sea 
again  ;  "  although  only  able  to  preach  once  a  day  for  some 
time.  When  he  was  himself  again,  and  looked  at  the  "glorious 
range  for  hunting  in  the  American  woods,"  he  was  at  a  loss 
what  hand  to  go  to:  "Affection,  intense  affection,  cries  aloud, 
Away  to  New  England,  c/ear  New  England,  directly.  Provi- 
dence, and  the  circumstances  of  the  southern  provinces,  point 
directly  to  Virginia."  Whilst  thus  undecided,  he  visited  his 
old  friend  Governor  Belcher,  and  found  him  an  improved  and 
ripening  pilgrim,  now  willing  to  depart  and  be  with  Christ. 


whitefield's  life    and   times.         419 

The  venerable  governor  enjoyed  this  visit  much  ;  and  found  it 
as  conducive  to  his  own  peace  as  his  patronage  and  state-coach 
had  formerly  been  to  Whitefield's  popularity.  It  was  now  the 
New  Jersey  commencement,  and  the  president  and  trustees  of 
the  college  presented  Whiteficld  with  the  degree  of  M.A.  lie 
was  pleased  with  this  mark  of  their  respect  from  the  senate; 
but  much  more  pleased  with  the  synod  of  ministers.  M  I  was 
much  refreshed,"  he  says,  "  with  the  company  of  the  whole 
synod  :  such  a  number  of  simple-hearted,  united  ministers,  I 
never  saw  before.  I  preached  to  them  several  times,  and  the 
great  Master  of  assemblies  was  in  the  midst  of  us." 

By  their  counsel  he  determined  to  visit  New  England  first, 
and  to  return  through  Virginia  to  Georgia  :  a  circuit  of  about 
"  two  thousand  miles  ;  "  but  not  at  all  intimidating  to  him.  On 
looking  at  it  he  said,  "  The  Redeemer's  strength  wil  be  more 
than  sufficient."  President  Burr  accompanied  him  to  New 
England,  and  saw,  at  Boston,  morning  after  morning,  three  or 
four  thousand  people  hanging,  in  breathless  silence,  on  the 
lips  of  the  preacher,  and  weeping  silent  tears.  VVhitefield 
himself  calls  it  a  "lovely  scene,"  and  says,  he  "never  saw  a 
more  effectual  door  opened  for  the  gospel."  Sinners  have 
been  awakened,  saints  quickened,  and  enemies  made  at  peace 
with  me.  Grace,  grace !  Surely  my  coming  here  was  of 
God  !  Convictions  do  fasten,  and  many  souls  are  comforted." 
Such  was  the  crowd  at  the  early  sermons,  that  he  had  to  get  in 
at  the  windows  of  the  chapels,  in  order  to  reach  the  pulpit.  In 
a  letter  to  the  Countess,  he  says,  "  At  Boston,  the  tide  ran  full 
as  high  as  ever  your  ladyship  knew  it  at  Edinburgh,  or  in  any 
part  of  Scotland." 

Before  leaving  Boston,  he  heard  with  unspeakable  satisfac- 
tion, that  his  friend  Habersham  was  appointed  secretary  to 
the  new  governor  of  Georgia,  "  I  wish  you  joy,"  he  wrote  to 
him,  "  of  your  new  honour.  May  the  King  of  kings  enable 
you  to  discharge  your  trust  as  becomes  a  good  patriot,  sub- 
ject, and  Christian.  You  have  now  a  call,  I  think,  to  retire 
fro:n  business,  and  to  give  up  your  time  to  the  public."  His 
complete  triumph  in  Boston,  opened  for  him  a  "  wider  and 
wider  door"  all  around.  He  hardly  knew  where  to  go  first,  or 
how  to  go  fast  enough,  in  order  to  meet  the  public  demand. 
He  seems,  on  one  occasion,  to  have  let  down,  or  over-ridden 
his  horse,  in  his  haste;  but  he  knew  the  owner,  obtained  another, 
and  sent  word,  "  I  left  the  horse  a  little  lame  at  Long  Island, 
with  one  who  is  called  Saint  Dick.    All  hail  such  reproach." 


420  whitefield's    life    and    times. 

On  his  journey  northward,  he  was  able  to  preach  twice  or 
thrice  every  day  :  and  his  success  will  be  best  judged  from 
his  own  account,  for  he  never  speaks  strongly  without  strong 
reason.  "  What  have  I  seen  ?  Dagon  falling  every  where 
before  the  ark  ;  enemies  silenced,  or  made  to  own  the  finger 
of  God  ;  and  the  friends  of  Jesus  triumphing  in  his  glorious 
conquests.  A  hundredth  part  cannot  be  told.  We  had  scarce 
one  dry  meeting."  When  he  came  near  to  Portsmouth,  the 
end  of  his  northern  boundary,  he  was  overwhelmed  with  hu- 
mility, as  well  as  joy,  by  the  cavalcade  which  came  out  to 
meet  and  welcome  him.  lie  says  of  them,  they  "  were  too 
many  ;"  and  of  the  whole  expedition  so  far,  "  It  seems  to  me 
the  most  important  one  I  was  ever  engaged  in." 

He  now  turned  back,  "  to  preach  all  the  way  to  Georgia  ;  " 
a  journey  of  sixteen  hundred  miles.  This  had  no  terrors  to 
him.  He  called  it  "  a  ride,"  and  said,  "  Nil  desperandum, 
Christo  duce,  auspice  Christo."  Little,  I  regret  to  say,  is  to 
be  found  in  either  his  memoranda  or  letters  to  illustrate 
this  ride,  except  proofs  that  many  of  his  hearers  must  have 
ridden  forty  or  fifty  miles,  in  order  to  reach  the  line  of  his 
itineracy.  From  the  manner,  also,  in  which  he  was  received 
at  every  town,  and  from  the  multitudes  who  assembled,  it  is 
evident  that  great  exertions  had  been  made  to  prepare  them  for 
his  coming,  and  to  enable  him  to  keep  his  appointments. 
This  throws  no  small  light  upon  the  influence  he  now  had 
in  America.  It  was  felt  to  be  a  privilege  every  where,  to  for- 
ward him  on  his  mission,  "  after  a  godly  sort,"  and  to  telegraph 
the  wilderness  before  him  :  and  rich  and  poor  answered  the 
signals  :  churches  and  chapels  opened  to  them. 

When  he  reached  Charleston,  he  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
the  student  from  Bethesda  ordained  there.  It  does  not  appear 
whether  he  took  any  part  in  the  ordination,  or  not.  He  merely 
says  that  it  was  solemn.  He  was  not  less  pleased,  however, 
on  this  occasion,  to  find  that  one  of  the  players  of  Charleston 
had  been  "  snatched  as  a  brand  from  the  burning." 

His  health  failed  again  now.  His  old  vomitings  returned 
with  violence,  and  his  spirits  sunk  with  his  strength.  He 
therefore  returned  to  England,  in  the  fond  hope  that  the  voy- 
age would  recruit  him  for  his  "  Father's  business  ;  "  for 
which,  he  says,  "lama  poor  pilgrim,  willing  to  give  up  all 
that  is  near  and  dear  to  me  on  this  side  eternity  !  " 

This  brief  chapter  is  merely  preparatory  to  one  on  the  same 
subject.     Whitefield's  influence  in  America  would,  however, 


whitefield's   life   and  times.         421 

fill  a  volume,  were  it  traced  in  all  its  bearings  and  on-goings, 
from  the  first  rousing  of  her  churches,  down  through  the  pro- 
gress of  her  revivals.  This  cannot,  perhaps,  be  done  by  any 
British  writer.  Indeed,  it  would  be  imprudent  to  attempt  the 
task  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic.  We  do  not  know  enough 
of  the  men  who  caught  and  carried  on  the  influence  which 
Whitefield's  ministry  had  upon  the  public  mind  ;  to  tell  where 
their  influence  began,  or  where  his  ended.  We  should  thus  be 
forever  in  danger  of  ascribing  too  much  to  him,  and  too  little  to 
them.  We  see  only  the  mighty  impulses  which  he  gave:  and 
not  the  men  nor  the  measures  by  which  they  were  turned  to 
immediate  account,  or  transmitted  to  posterity.  For,  after 
all,  they  were  but  impulses  on  the  public  mind.  They  were, 
indeed,  many,  and  mighty,  and  good,  and  unparalleled  :  and 
just  because  they  were  all  this,  there  must  have  been  much  of 
this  goodness  and  greatness  about  the  agency  which  wrought 
with  them  and  by  them.  The  "  action  taken  upon  them,"  (to 
use  an  Americanism,)  was  one  chief  cause  of  their  extensive 
and  enduring  usefulness.  I  have  not  dared,  therefore,  to  bring 
together  the  proofs  of  Whitefield's  influence  in  America,  which 
might  be  collected  and  embodied  from  the  results  of  all  his 
visits  :  but  have  simply  given  illustrations  of  it  from  two  of 
them  ;  and  these,  perhaps,  not  the  most  influential. 


36 


422       whitefield's    life    and    times. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 

whitefield's    public    spieit. 

"On  his  return  from  America,  the  first  thing  he  took  no- 
tice of,"  says  Gillies,  "  was  the  success  of  religion  in  his 
native  country."  He  was  delighted  to  find  "  the  poor  Meth- 
odists as  lively  as  ever  ;  the  gospel  preached  with  power  in 
many  churches ;  some  fresh  ministers,  almost  every  week, 
determining  to  know  nothing  but  Jesus  Christ,  and  him  cru- 
cified ;  and  many  at  Oxford  awakened  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
truth." 

Almost  the  first  thing  he  did  on  his  arrival  was,  to  use 
his  influence  with  the  Marquis  of  Lothian,  for  a  diploma  to  his 
friend,  President  Burr  of  New  Jersey.  His  lordship  applied 
to  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  and  the  senate  consented  at 
once  ;  requiring  only  "  an  account  of  Mr.  Burr's  literature." 
This  Whitefield  sent  to  the  Marquis  : — assuring  him,  that  the 
favour  done  to  the  president  would  "  endear  "  his  lordship  to 
"the  good  people  in  America."  I  suppose  the  degree  of 
D.D.  was  sent  seeing  it  was  thus  readily  promised  :  it  is  not 
noticed,  however,  in  the  "  American  Biographical  Diction- 
ary." There,  the  president  is  styled  Mr.  Burr,  to  the  end 
of  the  chapter.  How  is  this  ?  Was  the  diploma  lost,  or 
not  sent  out  \  Or  was  the  president  too  modest  to  adopt  the 
title  1  I  put  this  question,  because  all  the  American  Diplo- 
mas which  are  not  acknowledged  in  this  country,  are  neither 
lost  nor  unappreciated.  They  are  not  all  used  ;  but  none  of 
them  are  lightly  esteemed  by  their  possessors.  They  never 
can  be  so,  unless  the  future  issue  of  degrees  becomes  promis- 
cuous :  and  America  will  surely  respect  herself  too  much  to 
permit  this. 

Whitefield  had  at  the  Tabernacle,  on  his  return,  what  he 
calls,  "  golden  seasons : "  but  by  this  time  there  were  other 
clergymen  in  London,  who  preached  the  gospel  faithfully ; 
and  as  that  was  the  only  thing  he  cared  for,  it  made,  he  says, 
his  "  call  to  go  abroad  still  more  clear."     Indeed,  so  little  did 


whitefield's   life   and  times.         423 

he  like  London  as  a  sphere  of  labour,  and  so  much  did  he 
judge  of  spheres  by  their  destitution,  that  he  wished  to  return 
to  America  this  year,  without  ranging  England  or  Scotland. 
Hence  he  says,  "  Methinks  I  could  set  out  for  America  to- 
morrow, though  I  have  not  yet  entered  upon  my  country 
range."     Lett.  1534. 

But  if  he  loved  America  most,  England  loved  herself 
more,  and  drew  him  with  "  the  cords  of  love,"  into  Glouces- 
tershire and  Bristol  again.  He  went  also  to  open  the  Nor- 
wich Tabernacle,  at  the  request  of  the  countess  ;  and  there 
he  so  turned  the  tide  out  of  the  Wesleyan  channels,  that  he 
deemed  it  necessary  to  apprize  his  friend  Wesley  of  the  fact, 
and  to  assure  him  that  there  were  no  party  designs  on  foot. 
At  first,  and  for  a  long  time,  the  Norwich  Tabernacle  was 
distinguished  amongst  the  countess's  chapels,  as  one  of  the 
most  promising.  In  1777,  the  Hon.  Walter  Shirley  spent 
some  time  at  it,  and  had  eight  hundred  communicants  in  fel- 
lowship. He  said  of  them,  "  Their  experience,  lives,  and  con- 
versation are  so  excellent,  that  there  is  nothing  like  it  in  the 
whole  kingdom."  This  once  flourishing  place  the  trustees 
have  managed  to  break  up.  In  1836,  the  great  body  of  the 
congregation  retired  to  another  sanctuary. 

When  Whitefield  returned  to  London,  he  was  goaded  by 
not  a  few,  to  engage  in  controversy  with  the  Wesleys  again. 
His  measures  at  Norwich  seem  to  have  been  misrepresented 
to  them.  Instead,  however,  he  preferred  to  wait  until  he 
could  converse  with  Wesley  "  face  to  face."  "  I  have  no 
time  for  controversy,"  he  says.  He  redeemed  time,  however, 
at  this  crisis,  to  write  a  grateful  letter  to  his  old  tutor  at  Ox- 
ford ;  begging  his  prayers,  and  blessing  him  for  his  instruc- 
tions and  counsels. 

At  this  time,  the  encroachments  of  the  French  upon  the 
British  colonies  in  America,  awakened  his  jealousy.  He  saw 
more  than  civil  liberty  at  stake.  He  trembled  for  the  ark  of 
God.  Accordingly,  when  he  heard  that  his  old  friend  Colo- 
nel Pepperell  was  in  the  field  again  to  resist  the  enemy,  he 
wrote  to  Lady  P.  an  inspiring  letter  ;  and  one  to  the  colonel, 
challenging  him  to  meet  him  often  at  the  throne  of  grace,  in 
prayer  for  success  against  "  popish  tyranny  and  arbitrary 
power."  In  like  manner,  when  he  set  out  on  his  northern 
tour,  he  carried  this  subject  with  him,  like  his  shadow,  through 
Yorkshire  and  Lancashire.  "At  this  time,"  he  says,  "next 
to  Jesus,  my  king  and  country  were  upon  my  heart.     I  hope 


434        whitefield's    life    and    times. 

I  shall  always  think  it  my  bounden  duty,  next  to  inviting  sin- 
ners to  the  blessed  Jesus,  to  exhort  my  hearers  to  exert  them- 
selves against  the  first  approaches  of  popish  tyranny.  Oh, 
that  we  may  be  enabled  to  pray  and  watch  against  antichrist 
in  our  hearts ;  for  there,  after  all,  lies  the  most  dangerous  man 
of  sin." 

With  all  his  partiality,  indeed  love,  to  Leeds,  Whitefield 
was  sadly  disconcerted  there,  when  he  found  that  his  friends, 
without  his  knowledge,  had  built  a  large  chapel.  He  saw  at  a 
glance  that  it  would  create  an  "  awful  separation  amongst  the 
societies  ;  "  and  lost  no  time  in  writing  oft"  to  Wesley,  that 
they  might  try  to  prevent  a  breach.  Both  the  plan  and  the 
spirit  of  this  undertaking  so  vexed  him,  that  he  exclaimed, 
"  Oh  this  self-love — this  self-will — is  the  devil  of  devils." 
This  he  wrote  to  Lady  Huntingdon  ;  a  proof  that  party  was 
not  their  object. 

During  two  months,  he  preached  twice  or  thrice  a  day,  to 
still  greater  numbers  than  before  ;  inviting  them  to  Christ, 
and  "  exhorting  them  to  pray  for  King  George,  and  the  dear 
friends  in  America."  On  his  return  to  London,  he  heard 
that  the  American  ladies  were  making  the  soldiers'  coats; 
and  he  wrote  off  immediately  to  urge  his  own  female  friends 
there,  to  be  "some  of  the  most  active  in  this  labour  of  love." 

Notwithstanding  his  immense  labours  on  this  tour,  he 
grew  fat :  but  it  was  disease,  not  strength.  Sore  throat  set 
in,  and  was  followed  by  an  inflammatory  quinsey,  which  as- 
sumed almost  a  fatal  aspect.  One  physician  prescribed  "  si- 
lence and  warmth  ;"  and  he  promised  to  be  "very  obedient." 
He  was  so  for  a  iew  days.  Then  another  physician  prescrib- 
ed a  "perpetual  blister  ;  "■■  this  proposal  roused  him,  and  he 
soon  tried  his  own  remedy, — "  perpetual  preaching."  It  was, 
of  course,  painful ;  but  he  said,  "  When  this  grand  catholicon 
fails,  it  is  all  over  with  me."  In  this,  he  judged  aright  of  his 
own  constitution. 

Whilst  compelled  to  take  the  "medicine  of  silence,"  the  sad 
news  of  the  earthquake  at  Lisbon  arrived.  At  the  time,  it 
was  doubtful  whether  death  or  life  would  be  the  issue  of  the 
quinsey  :  but  he  forgot  his  own  sufferings,  when  told  of  the 
public  calamity  :  "  Blessed  be  God,"  he  said,  "  I  am  ready  ; 
I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth.  Oh  that  all  in  Portugal  had 
known  this  !  Then,  an  earthquake  would  only  be  a  rumbling 
chariot,  to  carry  the  soul  to  God.  Poor  Lisbon  !  how  soon 
are  thy  riches  and  superstitious  pageantry  swallowed  up ! " 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        425 

One  almost  regrets  that  Whitofield  was  unable  to  preach  on 
this  catastrophe.  His  vivid  recollections  of  Lisbon,  with  his 
deep  sense  of  its  superstitions,  would  have  enabled  him  to 
render  the  scene  visible  to  the  eye,  as  well  as  overpowering 
to  the  heart  and  conscience.  This  reflection  just  reminds 
me,  that  I  have  seen  nothing  in  all  his  memoranda  or  letters, 
of  his  own  well-known  heroism  at  the  time  of  the  earthquake 
in  London.  He  preached  then  in  the  parks  at  midnight  to 
trembling  thousands  ;  and  presented  to  them,  in  his  own  com- 
posure, a  sublime  illustration  of"  the  peace  which  passeth  all 
understanding."  So  did  Charles  Wesley  at  the  Foundry. 
I  quite  agree  with  Watson,  that  it  is  difficult  to  say  which  was 
the  nobler  spectacle,  Charles  Wesley  in  the  Chapel,  or  White- 
field  in  the  open  air,  at  midnight;  and  both  triumphing  in 
God,  whilst  the  earth  shook  and  trembled  !  How  could  Meth- 
odism fail  to  commend  itself  then  to  the  public  mind?  Dodd- 
ridge also  signalized  himself  in  London,  by  a  sermon  on  the 
earthquake,  which  produced  a  thrilling  effect  amongst  the 
dissenters.  One  of  its  fruits  was,  the  formation  of"  the  Lon- 
don Religious  Book  Society,"  by  Benjamin  Forfitt,  Esq.  ; 
then  a  British  though  not  a  Foreign  Bible  Society ;  for  its 
object  was  "  to  distribute  Bibles,  Testaments,  and  other 
books,  gratis,  among  the  poor,  and  particularly  to  send  such 
books  to  the  country."  That  this  society  originated  from  the 
sermon  is  evident  from  Forfitt's  letter  to  the  preacher  :  "  If 
the  world  receives  any  advantage  from  this  design,  I  think  it 
is  indebted,  under  God,  to  Dr.  Doddridge  for  it ;  as  the  sa- 
cred fervour  which  animated  your  addresses  from  the  pulpit, 
when  last  in  town,  kindled  a  spark  of  the  same  benevolence 
to  the  souls  of  men,  in  the  breast  of  one,  who  could  no  longer 
retain  his  desires  of  usefulness  within  the  compass  of  his  own 
small  abilities,  without  exciting  others  to  the  same  views." 
Doddridge's  Diary,  vol.  iv,  192. 

In  the  winter  of  1755,  Whitefield  was  applied  to  by  his 
friends,  who  resided  near  the  theatres,  to  preach  regularly  at 
a  chapel  they  had  licensed  in  Long  Acre.  It  was  hazardous 
ground ;  but  he  did  not  hesitate  a  moment.  He  engaged  to 
"  preach  twice  a  week,  and  read  prayers."  On  the  first  night 
the  chapel  was  overflowing.  Hundreds  went  away,  who 
could  not  get  in.  But  he  was  soon  disturbed.  "The  sons 
of  Tubal  and  Cain,"  as  he  called  the  rioters,  serenaded  him 
every  night  with  "  bells,  drums,  clappers,  and  a  copper-fur- 
nace" as  a  kettle-c?rum.  These  men  were  hired  by  subscrip- 
36* 


426        white  field's    life    and    times. 

tion,  although  some  of  them  were  soldiers,  to  annoy  and  insu't 
him.     It  became,  therefore,  necessary  to  arrest  some  of  them 

as  rioters.     These  the  bishop  of  B sent  for,  and  inquired 

of  them,  where  Whitefield  lived  ?  This  surprised  him  ;  for 
he  thought  his  "  house  pretty  public."  This  bishop,  however, 
neither  knew  it,  nor  the  law  of  the  land  ;  for  he  sent  him  a 
prohibition,  although  the  chapel  was  duly  licensed,  and  un- 
consecrated. 

Whitefield  took  the  episcopal  "  bull  by  the  horns  at  once  ;" 
but  with  the  greatest  courtesy.  He  began  by  telling  the 
bishop,  "  I  thought  I  might  innocently  preach  the  love  of  a 
crucified  Redeemer, — and,  for  His  sake,  loyalty  to  the  best  of 
princes,  our  dread  sovereign  King  George,  without  giving 
any  just  offence  to  Jew  or  gentile,— much  less  to  any  bishop 
or  overseer  of  the  church  of  God."  He  ended  by  telling  his 
lordship,  "  I  hope  you  will  not  look  upon  it  as  contumacy,  if  I 
persist  in  prosecuting  my  design,  till  I  am  more  particularly 
apprized  wherein  I  have  erred.  I  trust  the  irregularity  I  am 
charged  with  (if  called  to  answer  for  it)  will  appear  justifiable 
to  every  lover  of  English  liberty; — and,  what  is  all  to  me,  be 
approved  at  the  awful  and  impartial  tribunal  of  the  great 
Shepherd  and  Bishop  of  souls."  Whilst  waiting  for  an  an- 
swer to  this  letter,  Whitefield  took  up  the  case  of  the  perse- 
cuted French  Protestants,  and  collected  £80  for  them  at  the 
Tabernacle.  He  had  likewise  the  gratification  of  finding  that 
one  of  the  subscribers  to  the  riots  had  been  arrested  by  the 
gospel  at  Long  Acre,  and  was  now  weeping  to  see  him.  A 
once  "  confirmed  deist,"  also,  had  become  "  as  a  little  child." 

The  next  time  Whitefield  preached  in  Long  Acre,  "  all 
was  hushed  ;  "  and  he  publicly  ascribed  the  peace  to  the 
bishop's  intervention.  It  was  only  a  pause  in  the  storm.  The 
rioters  contented  themselves  with  making  "  odd  noises,"  in  an 
adjoining  house,  whilst  a  scaffold  was  preparing  for  the  full 
flourish  and  chorus  of  "such  instruments  of  reformation"  as 
"  a  copper  furnace,  bells,  drums,  clappers,  marrow-bones,  and 
cleavers,  and  large  stones  of  a  pound  weight  to  break  the 
windows."  This  volley  was  planted  and  played  off'  against 
the  chapel,  in  the  yard  of  his  lordship's  overseer,  by  some  of 
his  lordship's  vestry  and  parishioners.  This  fact  Whitefield 
told  him  Lett.  1 122,  1 124  ;  and  added,  "  C,  one  of  your  lord- 
ship's relations,  can  acquaint  you  with  many  more  particulars  ; 
and  if  you  would  be  so  good  as  ride  to  C.'s  house,  you 
would  see  such  a  scaffold,  if  not  taken  down,  and  such  costly 


whitkfield's    life    and    times.       427 

preparations  for  a  noise  upon  it,  that  must  make  the  oars  of 
all  that  shall  hear  it  to  tingle.  I  have  only  one  favour  to  beg  of 
your  lordship,  that  you  will  send  to  the  gentlemen,  as  t  icy  are 
your  parishioners,  and  desire  them,  henceforward,  to  desist 
from  such  riotous  and  dangerous  proceedings." — "  I  ideed, 
my  lord,  it  is  more  than  noise.  It  deserves  no  milder  a  name 
than  premeditated  rioting." 

His  lordship's  answer  to  these  appeals  seems  to  have  been 
respectful  to  Whitefield,  but  useless  to  the  occasion.  He 
quoted  canons  instead  of  quelling  the  riots  ;  and  threw  doubts 
upon  the  lease  and  license  of  the  chapel,  instead  of  displacing 
the  overseer  of  the  parish.  He  had  admonished  some  of  the 
rioters,  whilst  they  merely  serenaded  the  congregation  ;  but 
when  they  "  sadly  wounded  "  some  of  the  hearers,  he  sailed 
out  of  the  difficulty  upon  a  raft  of  canonical  technicalities. 
But  he  mistook  his  man,  when  he  quoted  canons  and  Scrip- 
ture to  stop  Whitefield  from  preaching  the  gospel.  He  told 
him  at  once,  that  the  former  were  mere  "  bruta  fulvrina" 
which  ought  to  be  set  at  defiance,  like  the  wilhs  of  the  Philis- 
tines, whenever  they  stood  in  the  way  of  "  preaching  against 
sin,  the  pope,  and  the  devil."  That,  he  declared  he  would 
do,  at  all  hazards  of  pains  and  penalties.  And  as  to  the  apos- 
tolical canon  against  trenching  on  another  man's  line  of  things, 
Whitefield  reminded  him  of  the  welcome  Philip  Henry  had 
from  the  vicar  at  Broad  Oaks,  to  "  throw  a  handful  of  seed," 
now  and  then  into  his  field  :  "  there  is  work  enough  for  us 
both  ;  "  "  this,  I  humbly  conceive  is  the  case,  not  only  of  your 
lordship,  but  of  every  minister's  parish  in  London,  and  every 
bishop's  diocess  in  England  " 

This  faithful  appeal  to  principle  and  conscience,  did  not  pre- 
vent Whitefield  from  clearing  up  to  his  lordship  the  legal 
claims  of  the  chapel  to  protection.  It  had  been  regularly  li- 
censed in  the  Commons  for  a  dissenting  minister,  Barnard  ; 
and  the  certificate  was  in  the  hands  of  Culverwell.  To  these 
men  he  referred  the  bishop.  The  "  unhallowed  noises  "  went 
on,  however,  and  lives  were  endangered  by  the  stones  thrown 
in  at  the  windows;  one  of  which  nearly  struck  Whitefield  him- 
self. He  now  felt  that  private  letters  were  merely  child's  play, 
when  public  liberty  and  safety  were  thus  outraged  ;  and  there- 
fore he  apprized  the  bishop,  that  he  would  throw  the  whole 
affair  before  the  world.  His  lordship  thought  that  this  implied 
the  publication  of  his  letters  ;   and  claimed  his  privilege  as   a 


428        whitefield's  life   and  times. 

pe er,  to  prevent  it.  He  had  no  occasion.  Whitefield  was  a 
gentleman,  as  well  as  a  Christian.  He  therefore  made  a 
final  appeal  to  the  bishop  for  protection,  and  told  him  he  would 
trouble  him  no  more. 

The  outrages  went  on,  and  became  so  flagrant,  that  prosecu- 
tion seemed  inevitable,  and  was  contemplated.  When  the 
rioters  heard  of  this,  they  threatened  his  life.  One  man  went 
up  to  him  in  the  Tabernacle  pulpit;  and  others  sent  him  me- 
nacing letters,  "  denouncing  a  certain,  sudden,  unavoidable 
stroke  !  unless  he  desisted  from  preaching,  and  from  pursu- 
ing the  offenders  by  law."  One  of  these  letters  he  sent  to 
the  government  ;  who  at  once  offered  a  reward  and  his  Ma- 
jesty's pardon  to  any  one  who  would  discover  the  writer. 
This  pleased  him,  of  course ;  but  it  also  embarrassed  him. 
"  My  greatest  distress  is,"  he  said  to  Lady  Huntingdon,  "  to 
act  so  as  to  avoid  rashness  on  the  one  hand,  and  timidity  on 
the  other."  For  his  own  sake,  he  would  not  have  stirred  in 
it  ;  but  viewing  it  as  "  the  cause  of  civil  and  religious  liberty," 
he  wisely  let  the  law  take  its  course,  <at  the  hazard  of  his  own 
life  by  assassination.  The  preparations  for  bringing  the  mat- 
ter into  the  King's  Bench  seem,  however,  to  have  stopped  the 
evil. 

The  annoyances  at  Long  Acre  led  him  to  plan  Tottenham 
Court  chapel.  The  Sabbath  after  he  had  taken  the  ground, 
he  obtained  nearly  £600  towards  the  building.  He  intended 
to  put  it  under  the  protection  of  Lady  Huntingdon  ;  but  found, 
on  consulting  Doctors'  Commons,  that  "  no  nobleman  could 
license  a  chapel"  for  himself,  if  the  public  were  to  be  admitted 
to  it.  It  was  begun  in  May,  and  opened  in  November,  1756, 
and  licensed  "  as  the  other  houses  "  of  prayer. 

Having  laid  the  foundation  of  Tottenham  Court,  and  shown 
himself  again  at  Long  Acre  to  the  enemy,  Whitefield  went  to 
Bristol,  but  not  to  rest ;  although  the  cares  and  labours  of  the 
winter  and  spring  had  nearly  worn  out  both  his  strength  and 
spirits.  Still  he  preached,  as  usual,  in  that  quarter,  and  then 
returned  to  London,  "  to  keep  Pentecost  at  Long  Acre  ;  "  that 
no  one  might  suspect  him  of  having  been  "  frightened  away." 
After  visiting  Kent,  he  set  out  again  for  Scotland,  preaching 
by  the  way  to  still  greater  audiences  than  ever.  At  Leeds  and 
York,  he  found  "many  trophies  of  Redeeming  love,"  which 
had  been  won  at  former  visits.  Such  was  the  effect  of  two 
sermons  he  now  preached  at  Burstall,  that  "  several  hundreds 


whitefield  "'s    life    and    times.         429 

rode  eight  miles"  with  him  in  the  evening,  "  singing,  and 
praising  God."     Let.  I14<>. 

At  Edinburgh,  Whitefield  received  more  than  his  usual  wel- 
come. Politicians  now  thronged  to  hear  him,  and  the  news- 
papers lauded  him  for  his  spirit-stirring  exposures  of  "popish 
tyranny  and  arbitrary  power."  He  preached  twice  every  day 
in  the  Orphan  Hospital  Park,  and  blended,  with  almost  every 
sermon,  rousing  appeals  to  the  protestantism,  courage,  and 
loyalty  of  the  Scotch.  He  also  pleaded  the  cause  of  the  poor 
Highlanders  at  the  close  of  one  sermon,  and  collected  sixty 
pounds  for  them. 

On  his  way  back  to  London,  he  had  at  Leeds  what  he  calls 
"  the  Welsh  night ; "  a  meeting  peculiarly  solemn  and  refresh- 
ing. After  it,  he  braced  his  nerves  by  a  tour  of  mountain- 
preaching,  in  company  with  his  friend  Grimshaw.  But  it  was 
now  late  in  October,  and  as  he  found  "  these  cold  countries 
bringing  on  his  last  year's  disorder,"  and  being,  (he  says  sig- 
nificantly,) "  grown  very  prudent,"  he  came  to  London  to 
open  Tottenham  Court  chapel.  He  had,  however,  another  er- 
rand to  London.  The  new  governor  of  Georgia  had  sent  for 
him  from  the  north,  to  consult  with  him  before  sailing.  He  met 
him,  and  was  so  much  delighted,  that  he  wrote  off*  to  Bethesda, 
to  prepare  them  for  a  state  visit.  "  Waited  upon  his  Excel- 
lency, and  gave  him  and  all  whom  he  pleases  to  bring,  an  invi- 
vitation  to  Bethesda.  Dear  Mrs.  C.  will  make  proper  provi- 
sion." This  was  not  all.  He  wanted  to  have  military  honours 
paid  to  the  governor.  "Have  you  persons  enough  to  exercise 
before  him  1  Can  they  receive  him  under  arms  ?  "  "V\  hite- 
field  was  thinking  of  his  intended  college,  whilst  thus  ingra- 
tiating himself  with  the  governor. 

At  this  time  Cudworth,  (no  antinomian,  as  Moore  ignorantly 
calls  him  in  his  "  Life  of  Wesley,")  having  embroiled  Hervey 
with  Wesley,  wrote  a  pamphlet  against  what  he  calls,  "  Some 
Fundamental  Mistakes  in  Whitefield's  Sermons,"  and  as  Her- 
vey had  allowed  him  "  to  put  out  and  put  in  "  whatever  he 
pleased  in  his  letters  to  Wesley,  he  seems  to  have  sought  his 
sanction  to  this  attack  on  V^  hitefield  also.  Mason  charged 
him  with  saying,  that  Hervey  offered  to  preface  the  pamphlet. 
"  This,"  Whitefield  wrote  to  Hervey,  "  I  as  much  believe,  as 
that  I  am  at  Rome.  Perhaps  he  was  wrong  !  The  pamphlet 
sustained  Hervey's  own  theory  of  appropriating  faith,  and  set 
Marshall  againsl  Whitefield  ;  and  so  far  Hervey  may  have 
countenanced  Cudworth,    who    was  now  the  champion   of 


430     whitefield's    life    and    times. 

44  Theron  and  Aspasio."  Hervcy's  posthumous  letters  do  not 
clear  up  this  fact.  Indeed,  Cudworth  had  too  much  to  do 
with  their  publication  to  leave  any  light  on  the  subject!  It 
is,  however,  curious,  that,  from  this  time  there  is  no  letter 
of  Whitefield  to  Hervey  that  I  can  find  ;  nor  any  notice  in 
others,  of  Hervey's  death.  But  the  series  of  Whitefield's  let- 
ters about  this  time,  is  very  incomplete.  He  was  now  preach- 
'mg  fifteen  times  a  week  in  London,  and  daily  occupied  with 
the  converts  caught  in  his  4l  Soul  Trap,"  as  some  Doctor 
designated  the  new  chapel.  He  welcomed  the  nickname,  and 
prayed  that  44 Whitefield's  Soul  Trap"  might  catch  many 
wanderers.  It  nearly  caught  poor  Shuter,  the  player.  He 
always  attended  at  this  time,  and  brought  many  with  him. 
Some  of  the  nobility  also  became  stated  hearers,  and  took 
seats  in  the  chapel. 

In  1757,  Whitefield  planned  his  visit  to  Scotland  to  fall  at 
the  time  of  the  General  Assembly.  But  before  leaving  Lon- 
don, he  placed  the  scheme  of  his  college  in  the  hands  of  Lord 
Halifax.  He  seems,  on  his  arrival,  to  have  attended  the  sit- 
tings of  the  Assembly  ;  and  Gillies  says,  44  Perhaps  a  hun- 
dred ministers  at  a  time  attended  his  sermons."  Thirty  of  the 
ministers  honoured  him  with  a.  public  entertainment,  and  Lord 
Cathcart,  his  Majesty's  commissioner,  invited  him  to  his  own 
table.  This  was  wormwood  and  gall  to  the  high  churchmen. 
Some  of  them  had  the  insolence  to  remonstrate  with  Cathcart, 
on  the  impropriety  of  inviting  Whitefield  to  meet  the  clergy  ! 
44  It  would  give  offence  "  to  the  church,  they  said  !  His  lord- 
ship spurned  their  paltry  44  overture  with  indignation."  Gillies. 
Whitefield  preached,  he  says,  4k just  fifty  times,"  on  this  visit: 
that  was  about  as  much  in  a  month,  as  some  of  these  clergy- 
men did  in  a  year  !  Such  a  contrast  could  hardly  endear  his 
company  to  half-day  labourers. 

At  Glasgow,  Whitefield  preached  in  the  High  Church  yard 
with  equal  success,  and  collected  money  for  the  poor.  He 
then  went  to  Ireland,  and  was  stoned  (as  we  have  seen)  on 
Oxmantown  Green  ;  not,  he  says,  44  for  speaking  against  the 
papists  in  particular,  but  for  exciting  all  ranks  to  be  faithful  to 
King  Jesus,  and  to  our  dread  sovereign  King  George  ;  "  and 
because  he  prayed  for  the  King  of  Prussia.  In  the  other 
parts  of  Ireland,  he  found  hunting  for  souls  to  be  44  delightful 
sport  when  the  heart  is  in  it."  The  well-known  Edwards  of 
Leeds  was  converted  under  the  sermon  at  Oxmantown  Green. 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        431 

The  Irish  Liberty  Boys  used  to  call  him  "  their  swaddling 
John." 

On  his  return  to  London,  he  found  that  the  governor  of 
Georgia  had  visited  Bethesda,  and  promised  to  communicate 
his  sentiments  to  Lord  Halifax,  "  concerning  its  being  enlarg- 
ed into  a  college  :  "  but  the  pressure  of  public  affairs  deterred 
him  from  applying  to  the  government.  There  were  bad  news 
from  America  "  about  the  fleet,"  and  therefore  he  kept  a  fast 
day  at  his  chapels. 

His  health  now  failed  sadly.  He  was  brought  to  live  on 
the  "  short  allowance  of  preaching  but  once  a  day,  and  thrice 
on  the  Sunday ;  "  very  short  allowance  for  him!  Once,  how- 
ever, he  broke  through  the  restraint,  and  preached  three  times 
on  the  success  of  the  King  of  Prussia  ;  which,  he  says, 
"  somewhat  recovered  "  him,  after  he  had  been  for  a  week  at 
the  gates  of  the  grave  !  He  was  not  able  to  attempt  great  things 
this  winter.  Tottenham  Court,  was,  however,  his  Bethel,  as  he 
calls  it ;  and  as  it  was  then  surrounded  by  a  "  beautiful  piece 
of  ground,"  he  formed  the  plan  of  an  almshouse  for  twelve 
"godly  widows  ;  "  as  a  "  standing  monument  that  the  Metho- 
dists were  not  against  good  works."  This  charity  he  soon 
carried  into  effect.  His  thoughts,  however,  were  not  con- 
fined to  home.  Although  broken  down  in  health  and  spirits 
by  weakness  and  want  of  rest,  he  watched  the  affairs  of  Prus- 
sia with  intense  interest,  and  assured  the  German  protestants, 
through  Professor  Franck,  that  "  we  looked  on  their  distress- 
es as  our  own." 

In  the  spring  of  1758,  he  went  into  the  west  of  England, 
and  visited  Wales ;  but  he  was  so  feeble,  that  he  could  not 
bear  to  drive  nor  ride  in  a  one-horse  chaise.  He  was  obliged 
to  give  it  up.  The  roads  shook  it,  and  it  shook  him  nearly  to 
pieces.  "  Every  thing,"  he  says,  "  wearies  this  shattered 
bark  now !  "  A  friend  interfered,  and  purchased  a  "  close 
chaise"  for  him,  advancing  the  money  until  he  could  conve- 
niently repay  it.  He  felt  this  kindness  deeply,  because  by  no 
other  means  could  he  have  itinerated.  "I  would  not,"  he 
says,  "  lay  out  a  single  farthing  but  for  my  blessed  Master  : 
but  it  is  inconceivable  what  I  have  undergone  these  three 
weeks.  /  never  was  so  before  !  Oh  for  a  hearse  to  carry  my 
weary  carcass  to  the  wished-for  grave  !  "  During  all  this 
tour,  he  was  unable  to  sit  up  in  company  even  once  ;  yet  he 
often  preached  to  ten  or  fifteen  thousand  people,  and  made 
their  "tears  flow  like  water  from  the  rock."     His  views  of 


432        white  field's   life   and   times. 

himself  at  this  time  were  more  than  usually  humble  ;  and  that 
is  saying  a  great  deal,  to  those  who  have  read  his  letters  be- 
fore this  time.  He  said  to  Lady  Huntingdon,  "  Oh,  I  am 
sick — -I  am  sick — sick  in  body  ;  but  infinitely  more  so  in 
mind,  to  see  so  much  dross  in  my  soul.  Blessed  be  God, 
there  is  One  who  will  sit  as  a  refiner's  fire,  to  purify  the  sons 
of  Levi.  I  write  out  of  the  burning  bush.  Christ  is  there  ! 
Christ  is  there  !" 

In  the  summer  he  went  north  again  ;  but  was  often  ready  to 
turn  back,  through  extreme  weakness,  even  before  he  reach- 
ed Northampton.  There,  however,  he  "  took  the  field " 
again.  Preaching  in  "Bishop  Banyan's1'  pulpit  at  Bedford, 
had  rallied  his  spirits.  My  eye  rests  at  this  moment  upon  a 
fragment  of  that  hallowed  pulpit  ;  and  I  hardly  know  whether 
it  is  most  associated  in  my  mind  with  Buni/an  in  his  strength, 
or  with  White field  in  his  weakness.  This  1  know — I  often 
see  them  both  leaning  over  it,  and  reproving  me  ! 

This  year,  Whitefield  lost  by  death  some  of  his  earliest  and 
dearest  friends  ;  Hervey,  President  Burr,  Governor  Belcher, 
and  Jonathan  Edwards.  Their  death,  and  his  own  dying  life, 
made  him  long  "  to  depart."  When  he  reached  Edinburgh, 
he  expected  death  after  "  every  sermon."  Yet  he  preached 
twice  a  day  in  general,  and  that  to  immense  auditories.  On 
one  occasion  he  collected  upwards  of  two  hundred  pounds  for 
the  orphan  hospital.  He  also  preached  thanksgiving  ser- 
mons for  the  victories  at  Crevelt,  Cape  Breton,  and  on  the 
defeat  of  the  Russians.  He  allowed  nothing  to  escape  him 
unimproved.  The  races  came  on  at  Edinburgh,  and  he  con- 
sented to  preach  to  the  people,  to  "  run  the  race  set  before  " 
them. 

Well  might  he  say,  "  This  preaching  is  a  strange  restora- 
tive." Still,  it  did  restore  him.  He  was  unable  to  visit  pri- 
vate friends,  and  was  adjourning  to  see  them  until  they  met 
in  heaven  :  "but,"  he  says,  "  it  will  not  do !  "  His  health 
was,  in  fact,  improving  by  hard  labour.  He  therefore  went 
to  Glasgow,  and  laboured  harder  than  ever.  "I  am  put  out 
to  sea  again,"  he  said,  "  and  if  to  take  some  more  prizes,  I 
shall  rejoice."  There  is  good  reason  to  believe  that  he  took 
many  in  Scotland  on  this  occasion.  One  thing  which  gave 
him  additional  influence  amongst  the  poor  in  Glasgow,  was 
the  zeal  with  which  he  pleaded  the  cause  of  the  Highland 
families,  whose  fathers  were  serving  the  king  in  America. 

Whitefield  never,  perhaps,  was  more  overcome  than  now  in 


whitefield's   life   and  times.  433 

parting  from  his  friends.  He  called  the  day  of  his  farewell  to 
Scotland,  the  "  execution  day ;  "  not,  however,  that  he  despair- 
ed of  seeing  it  again  ;  but  that  his  friends  were  like  Paul's  at 
Miletus.  In  fact,  he  was  almost  himself  again,  for  a  little, 
when  he  got  into  Yorkshire.  Then,  the  idea  of  winter-quar- 
ters was  as  painful  as  ever.  He  resolved,  that  nothing  but 
"  change  of  weather  should  drive  "  him  into  them.  He  could 
not  help  feeling,  however,  that  he  must  soon  retire  from  the 
fields  ;  and,  therefore,  he  prayed,  "  Lord,  prepare  me  for 
winter  trials :   they  are  preparatives  for  an  eternal  summer." 

In  1759,  Whitefield  had  the  satisfaction  to  clear  off  all  his 
debts  for  the  orphan-house.  "  Belhesda's  God,"  he  said, 
"  lives  for  ever,  and  is  faithful  and  all-sufficient."  He,  there- 
fore, wished  much  to  visit  America  ;  but  he  could  not  find 
supplies  to  relieve  him  from  his  chapels  in  London.  This 
pained  him.  "  Strange  !"  he  says,  "  that  nobody  will  relieve 
me,  that  I  may  once  more  flee  to  America."  No  one  did, 
and  he  returned  to  Scotland.  He  became  fat  by  the  way, 
and  his  friends  congratulated  him  on  the  prospect  of  a  new 
lease  of  life  ;  but  he  did  not  flatter  himself  on  becoming  cor- 
pulent :  "  so  did  Darracott  a  little  before  he  died,"  he  said. 
It  is  much  to  be  regretted,  that  paintings  of  Whitefield  multi- 
plied at  this  time.  It  cannot  be  wondered  at,  because  his 
friends  could  not  but  feel  that  his  life  was  precarious.  Still, 
these  portraits  convey  no  idea  of  the  man  who  awetl  the  mul- 
titude in  Moorfields,  and  electrified  the  nobility  at  Lady 
Huntingdon's.  Some  of  them,  especially  Nathaniel  Hone's, 
are  faithful  likenesses  of  Whitefield,  when  disease  made  him 
corpulent ;  and  thus  they  are  the  Whitefield  our  grandfathers 
knew  :  but  not  the  Whitefield  of  their  fathers.  I  defy  any 
one  to  associate  the  emotions  of  the  old  or  of  the  new  world 
Avith  the  pursy  parson  of  these  figures  ; — all  of  them  "  born 
out  of  due  season  !  "  Whitefield  was  "  slender  in  person," 
until  he  began  to  sink  in  strength.  Indeed,  were  there  not 
reason  to  suppose  that  the  first  portrait  of  him  was  transmut- 
ed by  the  trade  into  a  Hervey,  when  "  Theron  and  Aspasio  " 
became  popular,  I  should  have  made  it  the  frontispiece  to  this 
volume.  It,  and  the  one  I  have  adopted  as  the  medium  be- 
tween the  first  and  last,  are  the  portraits  which  Whitefield 
himself  presented  to  his  friends.  In  regard  to  the  others  he 
said,  he  should  hate  himself,  if  he  were  "  the  sour-looking 
creature "  they  represented  him  to  be.  Jay's  Life  of 
Winter. 

37 


434      whitefield's    life    and    times. 

I  mention  this  here,  because  on  his  visit  to  Edinburgh  this 
year,  (I  think,)  the  governors  of  the  orphan  hospital  had  his 
likeness  taken,  and  hung  up  in  the  hall,  as  a  mark  of  their  re- 
spect and  gratitude  to  him,  for  the  collections  he  made  for  the 
charity.  On  this  occasion,  he  collected  £415  for  the  orphan 
hospital. 

What  was  thought  of  his  political  influence,  at  this  time, 
may  be  best  told,  perhaps,  in  the  language  of  the  newspapers. 
One  of  them  says,  "The  Rev.  Mr.  Whitefleld  has  been 
preaching  here  and  at  Glasgow.  He  has  preached  nearly  a 
hundred  times  ;  and  yet  his  congregations  were  always  in- 
creasing. Whatever  this  be  owing  to — every  body  must 
judge  for  themselves  :  but  it  is  certain  that  he  continually  ex- 
erted all  his  rhetoric  in  stirring  up  zeal  for  his  God,  his  king, 
and  his  country,  in  this  time  of  danger  ;  and  he  seemed  parti- 
cularly pleased,  as  were  thousands  more,  that  he  had  an  op- 
portunity of  preaching  a  thanksgiving  sermon  to  a  most 
thronged  auditory,  on  account  of  the  glorious  victory  lately 
vouchsafed  to  Prince  Ferdinand  over  the  French.  Edin. 
Aug.  1759. 

During  this  visit  to  the  north,  he  had  an  opportunity  of  de- 
monstrating his  disinterestedness.  A  Miss  Hunter,  "a  young 
lady  of  considerable  fortune,  made  a  full  offer  of  her  estate, 
both  money  and  lands,  amounting  to  about  £7000."  This 
gift  he  promptly  refused.  Even  when  it  was  offered,  not  for 
his  own  use,  but  for  his  orphan-house,  he  "  absolutely  refus- 
ed "  it.  Gillies  says,  he  himself  had  the  facts  "from  un- 
doubted authority."  There  is  a  similar  anecdote  of  Wesley, 
and  it  is  equally  authentic.  Indeed,  they  resembled  each 
other  very  much  in  their  disinterestedness  ;  and  left  all  their 
enemies  as  silent  on  this  subject,  as  Wesley  did  the  Cumber- 
land guide,  who  asked  him,  what  he  made  a  year  by  so  many 
preachings  1 

Whitefleld  was  not  much  pleased  with  the  state  of  religion 
in  Scotland,  on  this  visit.  "  It  is  a  dead  time  indeed,"  here, 
he  says  ;  "  little  or  no  stirring  among  the  dry  bones.  I 
preach — and  people  flock — as  usual  :  but  Scotland  is  not 
London.  The  Redeemer  is  doing  wonders  there.  Every 
post  brings  fresh  good  news."  He  solved  this  difference  to 
himself  by  saying,  "God's  Spirit  blows  when  and  where  it 
listeth ;  "  forgetting  that  his  own  spirit  was  a  little  too  politi- 
cal, at  the  time.  He  did  not  suspect  this  ;  but  he  felt  that 
the  "  languor"  of  the  north  was  infectious,  and  hastened  back 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         435 

to  London,  lest  it  should   "take  hold"  on  his  own  "  already 
too  languid  heart." 

Much  of  this  languor  arose  from  sudden  corpulency.  That 
broke  in  upon  him,  he  says,  "  like  an  armed  man."  Labour 
could  not  keep  it  down,  nor  abstinence  check  it.  This  both 
pained  and  alarmed  him.  "  I  dread  a  corpulent  body.  Oh 
that  my  heart  may  not  wax  gross  at  the  same  time !  I  would 
fain  not  flag  ;  but  rather  begin  te  begin  in  the  latter  stages  of 
my  road."  In  this  spirit  he  entered  upon  his  winter  cam- 
paign in  London  ;  during  which,  he  edited  a  new  edition  of 
Samuel  Clarke's  Bible,  which,  next  to  "holy  Henry's,"  was 
his  favourite  Commentary.  It  well  deserved  to  be  so.  It 
had  the  joint  sanction  of  Owen,  Baxter,  Bates,  and  Howe. 
Calamy  says,  that  the  most  eminent  divines  of  the  church  of 
England  also  used  it,  and  that  "  one  of  the  highest  rank  re- 
commended it  to  young  divines  at  their  ordination." 

The  care  and  commendation  bestowed  on  Clarke's  Com- 
mentary, by  Whitefield,  and  the  heartiness  with  which  he 
identified  himself  in  the  preface,  as  "a  small  cedar,"  with  "the 
tall  cedars  of  our  Lebanon,"  conciliated  the  dissenters.  I 
mean, — they  now  saw  that  he  had  "  one  faith "  with  them- 
selves and  their  fathers :  and  thus  their  fears  of  novelty  and 
fanaticism  were  allayed.  They  now  began  to  read  and  hear 
him  by  the  light  of  a  Bartholomew  candlestick.  This,  and 
the  intimacy  he  had  formed  with  Dr.  Gifford,  whilst  memori- 
alizing government  on  behalf  of  religious  liberty  in  Ireland, 
gave  him  his  first  hold  upon  the  confidence  of  the  regular 
dissenters  ;  and  it  became  a  strong  hold,  and  is  likely  to  be 
lasting.  The  manner  in  which  it  became  strong,  is  interest- 
ing. Whitefield  made  no  advances  to  the  dissenters,  nor  they 
to  him.  He  was  no  dissenter  in  theory ;  and,  in  practice,  he 
set  Lady  Huntingdon  against  all  proposals  for  dissenting  cha- 
pels. But  he  did  not  set  his  converts  against  dissent.  They 
were  numerous  in  all  quarters  of  England  ;  and  thus  many  of 
them  became  his  "epistles  "  in  dissenting  churches  :  for,  hav- 
ing to  apply  for  sacramental  fellowship,  to  pastors  who  exa- 
mined both  the  creed  and  experience,  as  well  as  the  moral 
character,  of  communicants,  they  revealed  Whitefield's  prin- 
ciples while  stating  their  own  ;  and  thus  brought  home  to  the 
orthodox  pastors  and  churches  the  fact,  that  God  had  delighted 
to  honour  Whitefield  beyond  all  men.  This  truth  had  the  force 
of  truth,  amongst  all  the  evangelical  non-conformists.  Their 
churches  were  strengthened,  and  their  hearts  cheered,  by  the 


436       whitefield's    life    and    times. 

fruits  of  his  ministry.  The  consequence  has  been,  that,  for 
half  a  century,  his  name  has  been  associated  and  enshrined 
with  the  names  of  their  real  fathers,  as  if  he  had  been  one  of 
them.  No  one  would  call  him  a  dissenter  ;  but  all  pious  dis- 
senters feel  that  he  belonged  to  them  :  so  much  ascendency 
has  love  to  the  image  of  Christ,  above  party  zeal,  in  their 
churches  !  And  this  feeling  is  the  same  towards  the  catholic 
stars  of  the  establishment.  It  is  not  dissenters  who  distin- 
guish, because  of  rituals,  between  Owen  and  Hughes,  of  the 
Bible  Society ;  Carey  and  Heber,  of  India  ;  Wilberforce  and 
Philip,  of  Africa;  Simeon  of  Cambridge  and  Morrison  of 
China.  The  church  herself,  being  the  judge,  must  allow,  that 
her  best  ministers  never  live  unloved,  nor  die  unwept,  by  the 
evangelical  dissenters.  What  bishop,  who  loves  the  truth  as 
it  is  in  Jesus,  is  not  as  much  loved  for  the  truth's  sake,  by 
pious  non-conformists,  as  by  pious  churchmen  ? 

In  the  spring  of  1760,  Whitefield  enlarged  his  new  chapel, 
and  celebrated  the  event  by  collecting  upwards  of  £400  for 
the  Prussian  Protestants,  who  had  been  stripped  and  peeled 
by  the  Russians  at  Costein  and  Niewmark.  Two  hundred 
of  this  sum  he  remitted  to  Franck  ;  and  part  of  it  he  kept, 
until  he  should  hear  "  from  the  Professor  himself,"  how  it 
could  be  best  applied.  There  is  good  reason  to  suppose,  as 
Gillies  says,  that  Whitefield  received  the  thanks  of  the  king  of 
Prussia  for  this  act.  And  yet  this  was  the  time  chosen  by  the 
London  stage,  to  caricature  and  insult  him  !  I  will  not  con- 
descend to  characterize  "The  Minor."  It  is  enough  to  say, 
that  it  was  written  by  the  miscreant  Foote.  He  had  mimick- 
ed Whitefield,  and  been  applauded  for  it  by  the  Long  Acre 
rioters  ;  and,  therefore,  Drury  Lane  employed  him  to  bring 
out  "The  Minor."  Madan  remonstrated  with  Garrick  against 
the  outrage ;  but  in  vain.  The  fact  is,  "Whitefield's  Soul 
Trap  "  was  thinning  old  Drury.  The  experiment  was  tried 
at  Edinburgh  also,  to  counteract  his  influence  there.  But 
there  it  failed.  On  the  second  night  of  the  performance,  only 
ten  women  were  present.  On  the  following  Sabbath,  the  prin- 
cipal clergyman  denounced  the  outrage  on  truth  and  decency. 
"How  base  and  ungrateful,"  said  Baines,  "is  such  treatment 
of  the  dead!  (Whitefield  was  then  dead;) — and  that  too,  so 
very  nigh  to  a  family  of  orphans,  the  records  of  whose  hospi- 
tal will  transmit  Mr.  Whitefield's  name  to  posterity  with  hon- 
our, when  the  memory  of  others  will  rot."  The  "Hypocrite" 
by  Isaac  Bickersteth,  was  an  experiment  of  the  same  kind. 


whitefield's  life   and  times.  437 

Cantwell  was  intruded  to  burlesque  Whitefield.  If  George 
IV.  did  not  know  this,  when  he  commanded  the  comedy,  and 
"  roared  and  rolled  with  immoderate  laughter,"  at  Liston  in 
Maw  worm,  the  public  knew  it.  Preface  to  Cumberland's 
edition.  The  play,  however, can  neither  be  acted  nor  publish- 
ed now,  without  disclaiming,  as  "  an  absurd  notion,  that 
Cantwell  was  intended  for  Mr.  Whitefield, — that  eloquent, 
pious,  though  eccentric  man."  This  sounds  well :  but  the 
critic  forgot,  that  both  his  author  and  himself  connect  Cant- 
well and  Mawworm  with  the  Tabernacle  and  Tottenham 
Court.  Whitefield  himself  cared  very  little  about  the  attacks 
of  the  theatre.  When  they  began,  he  merely  said,  "Satan  is 
angry.      All  hail  such  contempt !  " 

His  autumnal  tour  in  Yorkshire  this  year  brought  on  a 
severe  cold,  which  hung  upon  him  through  the  winter.  At 
times  he  was  unable  to  write  a  letter.  But  a  destructive  fire 
at  Boston,  and  the  increasing  distress  of  the  German  Protes- 
tants, roused  him,  and  he  collected  for  them  in  one  day  nearly 
£tiOi)  in  his  own  chapels.  The  effort  was  too  much  for  his 
strength.  Gillies  says,  "  he  grew  worse  and  worse,  so  that 
in  April  1761,  he  was  brought  to  the  gates  of  death."  One 
cause  of  this  was  that  he  was  much  shaken,  although  not  much 
hurt,  on  ajourney  from  Bristol,  whilst  thus  weak.  He  was  re- 
turning "post-haste"  to  London,  and  once  the  chaise  was  over- 
turned, and  once  he  had  to  leap  out  "  though  going  very  fast." 

In  the  midst  of  these  troubles,  Berridge  of  Everton  came 
to  his  help  :  no  acquisition,  if  Dr.  Southey  be  the  judge.  He 
says,  "  Berridge  was  buffoon  as  well  as  fanatic."  The  late 
Simeon  of  Cambridge  did  not  think  so,  when  he  preached  his 
funeral  sermon.  Clare  Hall  did  not  think  him  either,  when 
it  presented  him  to  the  vicarage  of  Everton.  Wrhat  is  meant 
by  his  having  been  "  lately  Moderator  of  Cambridge,"  (as 
Whitefield  calls  him,)  I  do  not  know  ;  but  the  office  is  surely 
proof,  that  the  officer  was  neither  buffoon  nor  fanatic.  One 
thing  I  do  know, — that  the  memory  of  Berridge  is  fragrant 
throughout  and  around  Cambridgeshire.  That  would  have 
been  a  dark  district  but  for  him,  until  Simeon  arose,  so  far  as 
the  church  was  concerned.  Even  the  dissenters  in  that  quar* 
ter  owe  much  of  their  increase  and  energy  to  the  influence  of 
Berridge.  I,  who  care  nothing  about  either  church  or  dissent, 
any  further  than  they  care  for  the  souls  of  men,  and  the  supre- 
macy of  Christ,  shall  never  forget  the  churches  or  the  chapels 
which  owed  to  him — the  former,  their  possession  of  the  glo- 

37* 


438       whitefield's    life    and    times. 

rious  gospel ;  and  the  latter,  their  origin  and  the  gospel  too. 
I  traced  both  with  equal  patience,  and  remember  them  with 
equal  pleasure. 

I  am  not  evading  the  charge  of  buffoonery,  which  Southey 
has  advanced.  Berridgc  was  such  another  wag  as  Rowland 
Hill.  He  was  not,  however,  such  a  buffoon  as  South,  nor 
such  a  punster  as  Dr.  Donne,  nor  such  a  satirist  as  Laving- 
ton.  His  wit  never  wounded  a  penitent,  nor  hardened  a  sin- 
ner. It  disturbed  many  a  solemn  drone,  and  mortified  the 
self-righteous;  but  it  never  intimidated  the  humble,  nor  led  the 
weak,  to  confound  Methodism  with  hypocrisy.  It  was,  indeed, 
unmerciful  to  Arminianism,  and  thus  unjust  to  Wesley.  There 
I  loathe  as  well  as  lament  it.  It  is  not  so  inexplicable,  how- 
ever, as  it  is  unpardonable.  Fletcher  and  Wesley  libelled 
Calvinism,  as  heartily  as  Berridge  and  Toplady  caricatured 
Arminianism.  The  style  differs, — but  the  sting  is  the 
same.  The  "Mr.  Fry-babe''''  of  the  Arminian  Magazine  is 
just  as  vile  and  vulgar  a  caricature,  as  the  "  old  Fox  "  of  the 
Gospel  Magazine.  Fletcher's  Royal  Proclamation,  of  "  free 
grace  and  free  wrath,"  dated  from  Geneva,  and  signed  by  his 
Majesty's  secretaries  for.  the  " predestinarian  department," 
Calvin,  Crisp,  and  Rowland  Hill,  is  quite  as  indefensible  as 
Toplady's  genealogy  of  atheism.  Indeed,  they  are  equally 
disgraceful.  Apart,  however,  from  its  occasional  personali- 
ties, the  wit  of  Berridge,  as  a  preacher,  deserves  all  the  benefit 
of  Southey's  generous  concessions  on  Whitefield's  occasional 
playfulness  ■ — "  Minds  of  a  certain  power  will  sometimes  ex- 
press their  strongest  feelings  with  a  levity  at  which  formalists 
are  shocked,  and  which  dull  men  are  wholly  unable  to  under- 
stand. But  language  which,  when  coldly  repeated,  might  seem 
to  border  upon  irreverence  and  burlesque,  has  its  effect  in  popu- 
lar preaching,  when  the  intention  of  the  speaker  ais  perfectly 
understood  :  it  is  suited  to  the  great  mass  of  the  people  ; 
it  is  felt  by  them  when  better  things  would  have  produced 
no  impression,  and  it  is  borne  away  when  wiser  arguments 
would  have  been  forgotten."     Southey's  Wesley. 

Berridge's  was  just  a  mind  of  this  "  certain"  order.  Few 
men  had  more  right  to  say  to  those  who  did  not  understand 
his  vein, — had  you  been  born  a  wit,  you  must  have  borne  with 
it.  He  was  constitutionally  mercurial,  and  his  perfect  scholar- 
ship as  a  classic,  enabled  him  to  give  point  to  piquant 
thoughts  :  for  he  was  equally  familiar  with  Aristotelian  and 


whitefield's  life   and  times.         439 

Aristophanic  Greek  ;  and  there  will  be  some  buffoonery  when- 
ever the  latter  is  understood.     He  did  not,  however, 

"  Woo  a  grin  where  he  should  win  a  soul." 

He  often  caused  a  smile,  that  he  might  create  a  tear  :  a  haz- 
ardous, if  not  an  unwarrantable,  experiment  in  the  pulpit. 
Rowland  Hill  often  ventured  upon  it ;  but  he  did  not  approve 
of  it.  Indeed,  he  was  often  surprised  as  well  as  grieved,  that 
he  had  created  a  laugh.  He  did  not  suspect  that  many  of  his 
phrases  were  ludicrous.  I  recollect  once,  when  travelling 
with  him,  to  inquire  into  the  truth  of  certain  sallies  I  had 
heard  ascribed  to  him.  He  denied  the  whole  of  them  ;  but, 
at  the  same  time,  he  told  me  some  that  "  were  true,"  which  to 
my  Scotch  taste,  were  even  more  extravagant  than  those  he 
disclaimed.  But  enough  of  this  :  had  Berridge  been  either 
fanatic  or  buffoon,  Whitefield  would  not  have  called  him  "  an 
angel  of  the  churches  indeed,"  much  less  employed  him  as  his 
own  substitute  at  Tottenham  Court,  where  so  many  persons 
of  both  rank  and  talent  attended. 

At  this  time,  Whitefield  wished  much  to  go  into  Scotland 
again  ;  not  that  he  had  much  hope  of  recovery,  but  he  thought 
that  a  "  desirable  place  to  go  to  heaven  from."  He  was  not 
able  to  undertake  the  journey ;  he  therefore  tried  the  effect 
of  bathing  at  Plymouth,  and  then  of  the  air  at  Bristol.  These 
recruited  him  a  little,  and  "  stirred  up  an  ambition  to  be  em- 
ployed again;  "  but  his  first  sermon,  on  his  return  to  London, 
threw  him  back.  He  became  exceedingly  nervous  ;  a  kind 
of  suffering  to  which  he  had  formerly  been  a  stranger.  Alas  ! 
how  many,  like  myself,  will  see  unutterable  emphasis  in 
his  simple  account  of  this  : — "  I  now  know  what  nervous  dis- 
orders are  !  "  Happy  those  who  can  say  with  him,  "Blessed 
be  God  !  they  were  contracted  in  His  service  ;  and  I  do  not 
repent !  " 

In  the  autumn  he  went  into  Yorkshire,  by  gentle  stages  ; 
not  preaching,  but  "  travelling  in  order  to  preach  ;  "  and  his 
Yorkshire  friends  were  considerate  enough  not  to  tempt  him 
into  the  pulpit  often.  By  the  end  of  October,  therefore,  he 
could  bear  to  ride  "  sixty  miles  a  day  in  a  post-chaise,  quite 
well."  On  reaching  Edinburgh,  however,  he  became  much 
worse.  Silence,  "  the  bitter  cup  of  continued  silence,"  as  he 
calls  the  medical  prohibition  against  preaching,  was  now 
forced  upon  him  ;  but  with  the  assurance,  from  four  of  the 


440        whitefield's   life    and  times. 

principal  physicians  of  the  city,  that  it  would  recover  him. 
Accordingly  he  drunk  it  for  a  month,  and  then  preached  once 
on  new-year's  day.  This  encouraged  him.  His  nerves  also 
began  to  brace  again,  by  riding  ;  although  he  fell  off  one  day, 
and  pitched  on  his  head.  He  merely  says  of  this  accident, 
"I  had  a  violent  fall  upon  my  head  ;  but  was  neither  surprised 
nor  hurt." 

Having  thus  preached  once  without  injury,  and  not  being 
interdicted  from  preaching  again, —  in  a  week  after,  at  Edin- 
burgh, he  caught  at  the  prospect  of  resuming  his  "  delightful 
work,"  with  rapture.  "  Who  knows — who  knows?  "  he  ex- 
claims, "  I  may  again  see  Plymouth  !  "  He  was  able  to  return 
to  London,  and  his  first  work  there  was  to  read  all  his  letters 
from  the  German  Protestants,  and  to  consult  with  Ziegenha- 
gan  for  their  further  relief.  But  whilst  planning  for  that,  he 
had  to  bestir  himself  again  for  Georgia.  One  of  his  agents 
had  drawn  upon  him,  and  he  was  now  pennyless,  and  very  un- 
equal to  the  task  of  begging.  "How  could  you,"  he  says  to 
the  agent,  "  draw  on  vie  for  so  large  a  sum  as  one  hundred  and 
forty-seven  pounds  1  Lord,  help  me."  The  Bristol  friends 
had  not  collected  for  the  German  sufferers,  and  he  carried 
his  case  there.  Its  urgency  roused  him,  and  he  preached 
four  or  five  times  a  week  "  without  hurt,"  and  with  great  suc- 
cess. This  wound  up  his  spirit  to  its  old  pitch,  and  led  him 
to  look  at  the  fields  again,  as  his  proper  sphere.  "  How 
gladly,"  he  exclaims,  "  would  I  bid  adieu  to  ceiled  houses 
and  vaulted  roofs  1  Mounts  are  the  best  pulpits,  and  the 
heavens  the  best  sounding-boards.  Oh  for  power  equal  to 
my  will !  I  would  fly  from  pole  to  pole,  publishing  the  glo- 
rious gospel." 

On  his  return  to  London,  he  was  soon  overcome  by  cares 
and  labour,  and  obliged  to  spend  the  month  of  June  in  Holland, 
in  order  to  prepare  himself  for  the  dug-days  at  home.  The 
visit  had  the  desired  effect.  All  his  "  old  times  revived 
again,"  on  his  return  to  England.  But  new  troubles  awaited 
him.  Travelling  was  essential  to  his  health,  and  injurious  to 
his  chapels  :  he  had,  therefore,  to  devolve  the  management  of 
them  upon  trustees,  and  to  make  the  best  arrangements  he 
could  for  their  supply.  This  he  accomplished  with  great 
difficulty,  and  then  started  for  Scotland  ;  intending  to  sail  from 
Greenock  to  Virginia. 

On  his  way  to  the  north,  he  wrote,  in  the  intervals  of  public 
labour,  his  answer  to  Warburton's  attack  on  Methodism  : — 


whitefield's   life   and   times.         441 

an  account  of  which  will  be  found  in  the  chapter,  "White-field 
and  the  Bishops."  He  intended  it  to  be,  in  the  event  of  his 
not  seeing  England  again,  "  a  parting  testimony  for  the  good 
old  puritans  and  the  free-grace  dissenters  ;  "  because  the 
bishop  "  had  sadly  maligned  them."  At  Edinburgh  he  soon 
broke  down  again,  and  had  to  drink  anew  the  bitter  cup  of  si- 
lence for  six  weeks.  It  restored  him,  however,  and  he  went 
in  "  brisk  spirits  "  to  embark  for  America. 


442         whitefield's  life  and   times. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

WHITEFIELD'S     INFLUENCE     IN     AMERICA. 
SECOND    PART. 

In  June,  1763,  "VYhitefield  sailed  from  Scotland  for  Rapa- 
nach,  in  Virginia.  The  voyage  was  pleasant,  but  tedious. 
He  was  twelve  weeks  on  the  passage  ;  but  it  did  him  good. 
The  length  of  time  wore  out  the  painful  impressions  which 
had  been  created  by  his  solicitude  for  the  Tabernacle  and 
Tottenham  Court.  The  order  and  harmony  on  board,  also 
added  to  the  bracing  and  tranquillizing  effect  of  the  voyage. 
"  I  enjoyed,"  he  says,  "  that  quietness  which  I  have  in  vain 
sought  after  for  some  years  on  shore."  He  had  sailed  "  with 
but  little  hopes  of  further  public  usefulness,"  owing  to  his 
asthma  :  but  after  being  six  weeks  at  sea,  he  wrote  to  a 
friend,  "  Who  knows  but  our  latter  end  may  yet  increase?  " 
He  was,  however,  afraid  of  presuming,  and  added — "  If  not 
in  public  usefulness,  Lord  Jesus,  let  it  be  in  heart-holiness! 
I  know  who  says,  Amen.     I  add,  Amen  and  Amen." 

On  his  arrival,  he  found  many  Christian  friends,  of  whom 
he  had  "  never  heard  before,"  waiting  to  welcome  him.  They 
were  the  fruits  of  his  former  visit  to  Virginia ;  and  the  more 
welcome  to  him,  because  he  was  not  very  sure  that  he  had 
won  any  souls  upon  the  voyage.  It  was  with  great  difficulty, 
however,  that  he  preached  to  them ;  his  breathing  was  so 
bad,  although  his  general  health  was  better.  At  Philadelphia, 
also,  a  still  higher  gratification  awaited  him  :  not  less  than 
"  forty  new-creature  ministers,  of  various  denominations," 
visited  him  ;  some  of  them  "  young  and  bright  witnesses  "  for 
Christ.  He  heard,  also,  that  sixteen  students  had  been  con- 
verted last  year,  at  New  Jersey  college.  This  was  medicine 
to  him  for  every  thing  but  his  asthma  ;  and  even  that  he  tried 
to  forget :  for  now  the  Lutherans  in  Philadelphia  thronged  to 
hear  the  friend  of  the  German  protestants.  Accordingly,  he 
preached  twice  a  week,  and  with  "  remarkable "  success 
amongst  all  ranks. 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       443 

He  wanted  much  to  go  to  Georgia  ;  but  the  physicians  ab- 
solutely prohibited  him,  until  he  should  gain  strength.  He 
therefore  went  to  New  Jersey  college,  to  fan  the  flame  he 
had  kindled  amongst  the  students  ;  and  had  *•  four  sweet  sea- 
sons "  there,  which  resembled  old  times.  His  spirits  rose 
at  the  sight  of  the  young  soldiers,  who  were  to  fight  when  he 
fell.  Thus  cheered  he  went  on  to  New- York.  It  was  now 
winter;  and  "  cold  weather  and  a  warm  heart"  always  suited 
him  best.  He  therefore  was  able  to  preach  thrice  a  week, 
for  seven  weeks.  "  Such  a  flocking  of  all  ranks,"  he  says, 
"  I  never  saw  before  at  New- York."  This  flocking  was  not 
confined  to  the  sanctuary.  Many  of  the  most  respectable 
gentlemen  and  merchants  went  home  with  him  after  his  ser- 
mons, to  "  hear  something  more  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ." 
Such  was  his  influence  as  a  philanthropist  also,  that,  although 
prejudices  ran  high  against  the  Indians,  because  of  a  threat- 
ened insurrection  in  the  south,  he  collected  £120  for  the  In- 
dian school  at  Lebanon.  This,  with  the  numerous  conver- 
sions under  his  sermons,  made  him  say,  "  We  are  trying  to 
echo  back  from  America  the  Gogunniant  "  of  Wales.  Thus 
he  found  "  New-York  new  York  indeed  "  to  him. 

Soon  after,  he  visited  the  Indian  school  at  Lebanon,  then 
under  Dr.  Wheelock.  The  sight  of  this  "  promising  nursery 
for  future  missionaries,"  inspired  him.  All  his  old  plans  for 
its  extension  expanded.  I  am  inclined  to  think,  from  a  full 
comparison  of  dates,  that  he  arranged  on  the  spot  with  Wheel- 
ock or  Whitaker,  the  mission  of  Occum  to  Britain,  on  behalf 
of  the  Indian  seminary.  It  was  certainly  Whitefield's  plans 
and  pledges  which  brought  Whitaker  and  Occum  here  ;  and 
it  was  his  influence  which  won  Lord  Dartmouth  to  be  the 
patron  of  the  college  at  Hanover,  which  Wheelock  very 
properly  called  "  Dartmouth."  But  this  subject  will  come 
up  again. 

In  1764,  Whitefield  came  to  Boston,  and  was  "  received 
with  the  usual  warmth  of  affection."  Again  he  saw  there 
"  the  Redeemer's  stately  steps  in  the  great  congregation." 
Small-pox  were,  however,  raging  so  in  the  city,  that  ne  deem- 
ed it  prudent  to  move  about  in  the  adjacent  towns.  The 
Bostonians  bore  with  this  for  some  weeks  ;  but  when  they 
heard  that  he  was  likely  to  slip  off  to  the  south,  they  brought 
him  back  by  force.  "  They  sent,"  he  says,  "  a  gospel  hue- 
and-cry  after  me,  and  really  brought  me  back."  It  was  not 
so  much  to  their  credit,  that  they  "  begged  earnestly  for  a  six 


444        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

o'clock  morning  lecture,"  when  they  got  him  back.  He  seems 
to  have  been  unable  to  comply  with  their  cruel  request :  but 
he  declined  with  reluctance.  He  preached  for  them,  how- 
ever, thrice  a  week  for  some  time;  and  such  was  the  number 
of  converts  discovered  after  his  farewell  sermon,  that  his 
friends  actually  proposed  to  send  after  him  a  book,  full  oi 
names  of  the  multitude  who  were  clamorous  for  his  return, 
although  he  was  fleeing  for  his  life.  The  heat  alone  had 
compelled  him  to  leave.  It  was  now  summer,  and  he  began 
to  sink  again.  What  could  he  do  but  fly  ?  The  good  Bos- 
tonians  assured  him,  that  their  summers  had  lately  become 
much  cooler  than  formerly,  and  that  he  might  safely  risk  their 
do^-days  now !  He  tried  to  believe  them,  until  he  had  hardly 
breath  enough  to  say  farewell.  His  parting  with  them  tried 
him  much.  "  It  has  been  heart-breaking,"  he  says,  "  I  can- 
not stand  it!"  They  acted  more  considerately  when  his 
visit  commenced.  Then,  "  at  a  meeting  of  the  freeholders' 
and  other  inhabitants  of  the  town  of  Boston,  it  was  unani- 
mously voted,  that  the  thanks  of  the  town  be  given  to  the  Rev. 
George  Whitefield,  for  his  charitable  care  and  pains  in  col- 
lecting a  considerable  sum  of  money  in  Great  Britain,  for  the 
distressed  sufferers  by  the  great  fire  in  Boston,  1760.  A  re- 
spectable committee  was  appointed  to  wait  on  Mr.  White- 
field,  to  inform  him  of  the  vote,  and  present  him  with  a  copy 
thereof."     Boston  Gazette,  February,  1764. 

Urgency,  like  that  at  Boston,  was  employed  with  him  at 
New  Haven  college.  He  had  preached  to  the  students,  and 
taken  his  leave  ;  but  such  was  the  impression,  that  they  sent 
the  president  after  him,  to  entreat  for  another  "  quarter  of  an 
hour's  exhortation."  He  complied,  of  course  :  and  the  effect 
was,  what  he  called,  "  the  crown  of  the  expedition."  Letters. 
He  spent  the  summer  in  and  around  New-York,  without  suf- 
fering much  from  the  heat.  Often,  a  handred  carriages  might 
be  seen  in  the  streets,  around  whatever  chapel  he  preached 
in.  This  pleased  him  :  but  twice  he  got  into  the  fields  again; 
and  then  he  exclaims,  "  We  sat  under  the  Redeemer's  shadow 
with  great  delight." 

In  September,  he  went  to  Philadelphia  again  ;  and  the 
effect,  he  says,  "  was  great  indeed."  It  made  him  exclaim, 
"Grace,  grace!"  He  was  also  much  gratified  at  Nassau 
Hall,  where  he  preached  at  Commencement.  Both  the  gov- 
ernor and  ex-governor  of  the  state,  with  the  principal  gentle- 
men of  the  city,  attended,  and  the  provost  of  the  college  read 


whitefield's  life   and   times.  445 

prayers  for  him.  The  trustees  also  sent  him  a  vote  of  thanks 
for  his  services  and  the  countenance  he  gave  to  the  institution. 
About  this  time,  a  picture  of  him  was  taken  by  an  American 
artist,  who  could  not  finish  the  drapery,  owing  to  an  attack  of 
ague.  Whitefisld  must  have  been  pleased  with  it,  for  he  sent 
it  to  England  to  be  finished,  and  then  "  hung  up  in  the  Ta- 
bernacle parlour."  There  is  a  painting  there,  imperfect  in 
its  drapery,  which  has  often  astounded  me,  the  figure  is  so 
unwieldy,  and  so  unlike  all  my  old  prints.  Until  this  moment 
I  could  not  account  for  its  enormous  obesity.  It  is,  I  now 
suspect,  the  original  he  sent  from  Philadelphia,  for  he  wag 
then  much  swollen.  He  calls  it,  in  his  letter,  "  my  shadow :" 
I  should  like  to  have  seen  his  smile,  when  he  used  these 
words!   He  must  have  been  very  ill,  if  he  was  grave  then. 

He  was  well  enough,  however,  to  cross-plough  Virginia 
again.  During  this  itineracy,  he  found  here  and  there,  in 
places  as  "  unlikely  as  Rome  itself,"  groups  of  new  lights, 
formed  and  led  on  by  a  wealthy  planter  in  the  state.  This  he 
calls  "  grace  indeed."  They  also  met  him  in  a  body,  to 
identify  themselves  publicly  with  him.  The  character  and 
result  of  this  camp-meeting  at  Lockwoods,  I  do  not  know; 
but  such  was  his  own  opinion  of  the  prospects  in  Virginia  at 
large,  that  he  wrote  home  thus  :  "  Surely  the  Londoners,  who 
are  fed  to  the  full,  will  not  envy  the  poor  souls  in  these  parts. 
I  almost  determine  to  come  back  in  the  spring  "  to  them, 
from  Georgia. 

He  spent  the  winter  atBethesda.  How  flourishing  he  found 
it,  will  be  best  told  in  his  own  words.  "  Peace  and  plenty 
reign  at  Bethesda.  All  things  go  on  successfully.  God  hath 
given  me  great  favour  in  the  sight  of  the  governor,  council,  and 
assembly.  A  memorial  was  presented  for  an  additional  grant 
of  lands,  consisting  of  two  thousand  acres.  It  was  imme- 
diately complied  with.  Both  houses  addressed  the  governor  in 
behalf  of  the  intended  college.  A  warm  answer  was  given  ; 
and  I  am  now  putting  all  in  repair,  and  getting  every  thing 
ready  for  that  purpose.  Every  heart  seems  to  leap  for  joy,  at 
the  prospect  of  its  future  utility  to  this  and  the  neighbouring 
colonies.  He  that  holdeth  the  stars  in  his  right  hand,  will  di- 
rect, in  due  time,  whether  I  shall  directly  embark  for  England, 
or  take  one  tour  more  to  the  northward.  I  am  in  delightful 
winter  quarters,  for  once!  His  Excellency  dined  with  me 
yesterday,  and  expressed  his  satisfaction  in  the  warmest  terms. 
Who  knows  how  many  youths  may  be  trained  up  for  the  ser- 

38 


446      whitefield's    life    and    times. 

vice  of  the  ever-loving  and  altogether  lovely  Jesus  ?  Thus 
far,  however  we  may  set  up  our  Ebenezer.  Hitherto  the  bush 
hath  been  burning,  but  not  consumed." 

On  transcribing  this  sentence,  I  was  about  to  say,  "  Alas, 
the  consuming  fire  is  kindling  ; — when  the  recollection  of  Ber- 
ridge's  opinion  on  the  eventual  fate  of  Bethesda,  checked  me. 
He  thought  it  a  good  thing  that  that  bush  was  consumed,  and 
thus  prevented  from  becoming  a  nursery  for  unconverted  min- 
isters.    But  this  subject  will  occur  again. 

In  the  spring  of  1765,  "VYhitefield  began  to  prepare  again  for 
his  wilderness  range  "     He  was  tired  of  "  ceiled  houses  and 
crowded  tables."     These,  he   says,  "I   leave    to   others:   a 
morsel  of  bread  and  a  little  bit  of  cold  meat,  in  a  wood,  is  a 
most  luxurious  repast  "  to  me.     He    left   Georgia,    however, 
with  great  regret,  on  some  accounts.     It  was  all  alive  to  hear 
him.     It  was,  in  his  opinion,  "  such  a  scene  of  action  "  then, 
that  words    could  not   express  the   facilities   for  usefulness 
which  it  presented.     But  both  Old  and  New  England  were 
clamorous  for  his  return  to  them.     All  the  way  from  Charles- 
ton to  Philadelphia,  the  loud  and  piercing  cry  was, — "  For 
Christ's  sake  stay,  and  preach  the  gospel  to  us."     Even  in 
Charleston,  of  which  he  often  said,  its  motto  is    "  chastened 
but  not   changed"   (referring  to  its  calamitous  visitations  by 
storms,)  he  was  detained  a  week  longer  than  he  intended,  by 
the  urgency  of  the  mayor  and  the  principal  gentlemen  of  the 
town.     Indeed  he  calls  his  parting  from  it  and  Bethesda,  "  af- 
fecting, cutting,  and  awful."     So  it  was  to  him  every  where  : 
for  he  doubted  very  much  whether  it  was  his  duty  to  move 
homewards.     But  he  had  laid  the  foundation    of  his   college, 
and  the  superstructure  depended  upon  his  influence  at  home. 
Besides,  the  heat  soon  decided  the  question,  when  he  reached 
Philadelphia.     In  a  few  days  he  could  scarcely  move.     He 
even  dreaded  the  motion  of  a  ship,  when  he  was  compelled  to 
embark  for  England  ;  but  he  said,   "  If  it  shake  this  tottering 
frame  to  pieces,  it  will  be  a  trading  voyage  indeed  !"     In  this 
spirit  he  sailed,  and  reached  home  so  speedily,  that  he  could 
hardly  believe  his  own  senses,  when  he  found  himself  there  in 
twenty-eight  days  ! 

In  this  second  illustration,  as  in  the  first,  of  Whitefield's 
influence  in  America,  there  is,  it  will  be  seen,  no  selection  of 
facts  from  any  former  or  subsequent  visits,  but  merely  the  de- 
tails of  the  moment.  I  have  already  stated  my  reasons  for  not 
going  into  the  general  estimate  of  his  influence  in  the  new 


whitefield' s    life    and    times.         447 

world.  Let  some  of  my  American  friends  show  this  out.  The 
old  world,  instead  of  being  jealous,  will  be  thankful,  to  see 
Whitefield,  as  we  now  see  Luther,  Knox,  and  Latimer,  in  his 
own  place,  amidst  the  Aarons  and  Hurs  who  sustained  his 
hands,  and  the  Joshuas  who  carried  on  his  work  and  warfare. 
It  is  worthy  of  American  Christians,  that,  whilst  they  would 
feel  at  a  loss  between  two  of  their  patriarchs — one  of  whom 
had  shaken  hands  with  George  Washington,  and  the  other  with 
George  Whitefield — with  which  to  shake  hands  first, — they 
would  venerate  most  a  veteran  who  had  known  both.  Again  I 
tell  them,  that  I  have  not  dared  to  do  Whitefield  full  justice,  in 
reference  to  their  father-land,  because  I  was  afraid  of  doing 
injustice  to  their  fathers,  who  acted  with  him,  and  followed  af- 
ter him.  I  devolve  the  duty,  therefore,  upon  America.  Let 
her  give  Britain  the  Transatlantic  Life  and  Times  of  White- 
field  ! 


448  whitefield's    life    and    times. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

WHITEFIELD    and     the     bishops. 

"Whitefield's  deliberate  and  final  opinion  of  the  episcopate 
as  an  order,  or  as  an  office,  is  very  doubtful.  Until  I  read 
his  solemn  declaration  to  the  Erskines,  that  he  would  not  be 
episcopally  ordained  again  for  a  thousand  worlds,  I  had  seen 
nothing  to  warrant  even  a  suspicion  of  the  kind.  Even  now 
I  know  of  nothing  to  illustrate  that  declaration.  It  is  not  re- 
peated in  any  of  his  letters.  It  is  not  reported  in  any  popular 
anecdotes  of  his  preaching  or  conversation.  The  dissenters 
had  no  idea  of  his  doubts  on  this  head,  and  his  episcopalian 
friends  regarded  him  as  a  sound  although  irregular  churchman 
upon  the  whole.  It  is  thus  evident  that  he  was  very  silent 
upon  the  subject.  Besides,  although  he  was  present  at 
several  ordinations  of  another  kind,  he  took  no  part  in  any  of 
them.  He  preached  in  the  evening,  at  Deal,  after  Dr.  Gib- 
bons and  other  ministers  had  ordained  a  pastor  there.  He 
also  spent  the  afternoon  with  them,  greatly  to  his  own  edifica- 
tion, he  says.  All  this  is  proof  that  he  did  not  doubt  the  va- 
lidity of  their  ordination  ;  but  not  proof  that  he  preferred  their 
way.  The  strongest  thing  I  know  him  to  have  said  of  that 
way  is, — "  The  prayer  put  up  in  the  very  act  of  laying  on  of 
hands  by  Dr.  Gibbons,  was  so  affecting,  and  the  looks  and 
behaviour  of  those  that  joined  so  serious  and  solemn — that 
I  hardly  know  when  I  was  more  struck  under  any  one's  min- 
istration. Several  very  important  questions  were  asked  and 
answered  before,  and  a  solemn  charge  given  after  imposition 
of  hands."  Thus  he  thought,  felt  and  wrote,  on  this  subject, 
thirty  years  after  what  he  said  to  the  Ertkine's  about  his  own 
ordination.  He  showed,  however,  no  preference  during  all 
that  time,  to  either  presbyterian  or  congregational  ordination. 
What,  therefore,  ought  we  to  think  of  his  strong  language  to 
the  Erskines  1     Was  it  a  hasty  assertion   never  repeated  1 


whitefield's  life   and  times.        449 

Did  he  repent  of  it  as  a  rash  saying?  With  my  knowledge 
of  Whitefield,  I  cannot  think  that  he  kept  silence  from  either 
policy  or  repentance.  He  had,  indeed,  no  policy,  except  that 
of  trying  the  greatest  sum  of  good. 

My  own  conviction  is,  that  he  had  neither  fixed  nor  definite 
opinions  upon  the  subject  of  episcopacy.  He  was  for  it  and 
against  it,  just  as  it  was  for  and  against  the  work  of  evangeliz- 
ing the  country.  He  thought  highly  of  episcopal  power,  when 
it  aided  or  protected  faithful  preaching  ;  and  meanly,  when  it 
hindered  the  gospel.  If  a  bishop  did  good  or  allowed  good 
to  be  done,  Whitefield  venerated  him  and  his  office  too  :  but 
he  despised  both,  whenever  they  were  hostile  to  truth  or  zeal : 
— I  have  no  objection  to  say,  whenever  they  were  hostile  to 
his  own  sentiments  and  measures.  The  question  comes  thus 
within  a  narrow  compass  : — Were  his  measures  and  senti- 
ments, or  those  of  the  hostile  bishops,  the  more  apostolical  ? 
Gibson  compromised  the  apostolic  doctrine  of  regeneration  ; 
Lavington  carricatured  it;  Smallbroke  all  but  denied  the 
work  of  the  Spirit ;  and  Warburton  evaporated  divine  influ- 
ence. Whitefield  sustained  the  doctrine  of  the  Reformation 
on  the  subject ;  and  however  his  modes  of  expression  varied, 
his  invariable  meaning  was,  that  it  is  Christ  in  the  heart,  that 
is  the  hope  of  glory.  It  was  this  apostolic  maxim  which  made 
him  at  first,  and  kept  him  to  the  end,  a  faithful  echo  of  the 
supreme  oracle — "  Marvel  not  that  I  say  unto  you,  Ye  must 
be  born  again."  They  may  be  prelates,  but  they  are  not 
bishops  of  the  church  of  Christ,  who  either  oppose  or  explain 
away  this  oracle.  To  honour  such  masters  in  Israel,  is  to 
dishonour  Christ.  And  as  to  respecting  their  office,  notwith- 
standing their  errors,  that  is  drawing  a  distinction  equally  un- 
wise and  unwarrantable.  What  honest  man  would  respect  an 
unjust  judge,  or  an  ignorant  physician,  because  of  their  pro- 
fessional titles  1  It  is  high  time  to  put  an  end  to  this  non- 
sense. Bishop  is  a  name  of  office  in  the  Bible,  because  it  is  a 
name  of  a  creed  and  character  :  and  therefore  ought  never  to 
be  conceded  to  any  man,  whose  creed  and  character  are  not 
apostolical,  whoever  may  confer  it  upon  him.  Ordination  can 
no  more  make  a  worldly  man  a  bishop,  than  a  diploma  can 
can  make  an  ignorant  man  a  physician,  or  a  theologian. 

Whitefield's  sentiments  on  this  subject  came  out  most 
fully  in  his  exposure  of  Warburton.  He  did  not  spare  him, 
as  he  did  Smallbroke  ;  for  although  no  match  for  Warburton 
as  a  scholar  or  a  reasoner,  his  spirit  compelled  the  wrangler 

38* 


450         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

to  calculate  consequences.  I  have  never  seen  the  ori- 
ginal form  of  the  bishop's  pamphlet  on  the  grace  of  the  Spi- 
rit ;  but  as  sermons,  it  is  evidently  softened  and  qualified  in 
his  works.  The  memory  of  Doddridge  had,  perhaps,  some 
influence  upon  him.  Not  much,  however.  When  1  read 
his  letters  to  Doddridge,  I  can  hardly  believe  my  own  recol- 
lections of  his  works  ;  and  when  I  read  his  works,  I  can 
hardly  believe  that  he  wrote  the  letters.  I  regret  this  dis- 
crepancy :  for  Warburton,  if  the  "  most  imprudent  man  of  the 
age,"  was  a  mighty  man  of  valour,  and  warred  well  against 
the  twin-scepticism  of  Bolingbroke  and  Middleton.  I  se- 
lect him,  therefore,  that  the  point  of  Whitefield's  argument 
may  be  felt.     It  penetrates  "  the  joints  of  his  armour,"  even. 

The  following  remonstrances  are  not  addressed  to  the 
leviathan  of  the  Legation  himself.  Whitefield  was  probably 
afraid  to  put  "  a  hook  in  his  jaws,"  by  a  direct  effort ;  and 
therefore  he  caught  him  with  holy  guile,  by  addressing  a  pri- 
vate friend  ;  probably  Ktene,  one  of  the  first  managers  of  the 
Tabernacle. 

"  However  profound  and  unintelligible  our  author's  com- 
ments may  he,  yet  when  he  comes  to  show  the  reasonableness 
and  fitness  of  an  abatement  or  total  withdrawment  of  divine 
influence  in  these  last  days,  he  speaks  intelligibly  enough. 
'  On  the  Spirit's  first  descent  upon  the  apostles,  he  found  their 
minds  rude  and  uninformed,  strangers  to  all  celestial  know- 
ledge, prejudiced  in  favour  of  a  carnal  law,  and  utterly  averse 
to  the  dictates  of  the  everlasting  gospel.  The  minds  of  these 
he  illuminated,  and,  by  degrees,  led  into  all  truths  necessary 
for  the  professors  of  the  faith  to  know,  or  for  the  propagators 
of  it  to  teach.'  True!  '  Secondly,  the  nature  and  genius  of 
the  gospel  were  so  averse  to  all  the  religious  institutions  of 
the  world,  that  the  whole  strength  of  human  prejudices  was 
set  in  opposition  to  it.  To  overcome  the  obstinacy  and  vio- 
lence of  those  prejudices,  nothing  less  than  the  power  of  the 
Holy  One  was  sufficient.'  Good!  'And,  thirdly  and  lastly, 
there  was  a  time  when  the  powers  of  this  world  were 
combined  together  for  its  destruction-  At  such  a  period, 
nothing  but  superior  aid  from  above  could  support  humanity 
in  sustaining  so  great  a  conflict  as  that  which  the  holy  mar- 
tyrs encountered  with  joy  and  rapture,  the  horrors  of  death 
and  torment.'  Excellent!  But  what  follows? — According 
to  our  author, 

1  Tempora  mutantur,  nos  et  mutamur  in  illis.' 


whitefield's  life   and   times.         451 

1  But  now,'  (a  dreadful  but  it  is!)  '  the  profession  of  Chris- 
tianity is  attended  with  ease  and  honour  ; '  and  we  are  now, 
it  seems,  so  far  from  being  '  rude  and  uninformed,  and  utterly 
averse  to  the  dictates  of  the  everlasting  gospel,  that  whatever 
there  may  be  of  prejudice,  it  draws  another  way.  Conse- 
quently, a  rule  of  faith  being  now  established,  the  conviction 
which  the  weight  of  human  testimony,  and  the  conclusions  of 
human  reason,  afford  us  of  its  truth,  are  abundantly  sufficient 
to  support  us  in  our  religious  perseverance ;  and  therefore  it 
must  certainly  be  a  great  mark  of  fanaticism,  to  expect  such 
divine  communications,  as  though  no  such  rule  of  faith 
was  established  ;  and  also  as  highly  presumptuous  or  fana- 
tical to  imagine,  that  rule  to  be  so  obscure,  as  to  need  the 
further  assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  explain  his  own 
meaning.' 

"  This,  you  will  say,  my  dear  friend,  is  going  pretty  far  ; 
and  indeed,  supposing  matters  to  be  as  this  writer  represents 
them,  I  do  not  see  what  great  need  we  have  of  any  establish- 
ed rule  at  all,  at  least  in  respect  to  practice,  since  corrupt 
nature  is  abundantly  sufficient  of  itself,  to  help  us  to  perse- 
vere in  a  religion  attended  with  ease  and  honour.  And  I 
verily  believe,  that  the  deists  throw  aside  this  rule  of  faith 
entirely,  not  barely  on  account  of  a  deficiency  in  argument  to 
support  its  authenticity,  but  because  they  daily  see  so  many 
who  profess  to  hold  this  established,  self-denying  rule  of 
faith  with  their  lips,  persevering  all  their  lives  long  in  nothing 
else  but  an  endless  and  insatiable  pursuit  after  worldly  ease 
and  honour.  But  what  a  total  ignorance  of  human  nature, 
and  of  the  true,  unalterable  genius  of  the  everlasting  gospel, 
doth  our  author's  arguing  discover  !  For  supposing,  my  dear 
friend,  that  this  or  any  other  writer  should  undertake  to  prove, 
that  the  ancient  Greeks  and  Romans  were  bom  with  sickly, 
disordered,  and  crazy  bodies,  but  that  we  in  modern  days, 
being  made  of  a  firmer  mould,  and  being  blessed  with  the  es- 
tablished rules  of  Galen  and  Hippocrates,  need  now  no  further 
assistance  from  any  present  physician,  either  to  explain  or 
apply  those  rules  to  our  present  ails  and  corporeal  distresses, 
though  we  could  not,  without  the  help  of  some  linguist  supe- 
rior to  ourselves,  so  much  as  understand  the  language  in 
which  those  authors  wrote. — Supposing,  I  say,  any  one  was 
to  take  it  into  his  head  to  write  in  this  manner,  would  he  not 
be  justly  deemed  a  dreaming  enthusiast  or  real  fanatic  1  And 
yet  this  would  be  just  as  rational  as  to  insinuate  with  our 


452        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

author,  that  we  who  are  born  in  these  last  days,  have  less 
depravity  in  our  natures,  less  enmity  to,  and  less  prejudice 
against,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  less  need  of  ine.  divine 
teachings  of  the  blessed  Spirit  to  help  us  to  understand  the 
true  spiritual  meaning  of  the  holy  Scriptures,  than  those  who 
were  born  in  the  first  ages  of  the  gospel.  For  as  it  was  for- 
merly, so  it  is  now,  the  natural  man  discerneth  not  the  things 
of  the  Spirit ;  and  why?  '  Because  they  can  only  be  spirit- 
ually discerned.'  But  when  is  it  that  we  must  believe  this 
author  ?  for,  p.  73,  he  talks  of  '  some  of  the  first  Christians, 
who  were  in  the  happy  circumstance  of  being  found  inno- 
cent, when  they  were  led  into  the  practice  of  all  virtue  by 
the  Holy  Spirit.'  And  what  occasion  for  that,  if  found  inno- 
cent? But  how  innocent  did  the  Holy  Spirit  find  them? 
Doubtless,  just  as  innocent  as  it  finds  us,  '  conceived  and 
born  in  sin.' 

"  But,  by  this  time,  my  dear  friend,  I  imagine  you  would 
be  glad  to  know  against  whom  these  bruta  fu/miva,  this  un- 
scriptural  artillery,  is  levelled.  Our  author  shall  inform  you  : 
4  All  modern  pretenders  to  divine  influence  in  general ; '  and 
you  may  be  assured,  '  the  poor  Methodists  (those  scourges 
and  eye-sores  of  formal,  self-righteous,  letter-learned  profes- 
sors) in  particular.'  To  expose  and  set  these  off"  in  a  ridicu- 
lous light,  (a  method  that  Julian,  after  all  his  various  tortures, 
found  most  effectual,)  this  writer  runs  from  Dan  to  Beershe- 
ba  ;  gives  us  quotation  upon  quotation  out  of  the  Rev.  Mr. 
John  Wesley's  journals  ;  and,  to  use  his  own  simile  upon  an- 
other occasion,  by  a  kind  of  Egyptian  husbandry,  draws  to- 
gether whole  droves  of  obscene  animals  of  his  own  formation, 
who  rush  in  furiously,  and  then  trample  the  journals,  and  this 
sect,  already  every  where  spoken  against,  under  their  feet. 
In  reading  this  part  of  his  work,  I  could  not  help  thinking  of 
the  papists  dressing  John  Huss  in  a  cap  of  painted  devils, 
before  they  delivered  him  up  to  the  secular  arm.  For  our 
author  calls  Mr.  John  Wesley  '  paltry  mimic,  spiritual  empi- 
ric, spiritual  martialist,  meek  apostle,  new  adventurer.'  The 
Methodists,  according  to  him,  are  *  modern  apostles,  the 
saints,  new  missionaries,  illuminated  doctors,  this  sect  of 
fanatics.  Methodism  itself  is  modern  saintship.  Mr.  Law 
begat  it,  and  Count  Zinzendorff  rocked  the  cradle  ;  and  the 
devil  himself  is  man-midwife  to  their  new  birth.'  And  yet 
this  is  the  man,  my  dear  friend,  who,  in  his  preface  to  this 
very  book,  lays  it  down  as  an  invariable  maxim,  •  That  truth 


whitefield's   life  and   times.         453 

is  never  so  grossly  injured,  or  its  advocates  so  dishonoured, 
as  when  they  employ  the  foolish  arts  of  sophistry,  buffoonery, 
and  personal  abuse  in  its  defence.'  By  thy  own  pen  thou 
shalt  be  tried,  thou  hapless,  mistaken  advocate  of  the  Chris- 
tian cause.  Nay,  not  content  with  dressing  up  this  meek 
apostle,  this  spiritual  empiric,  these  new  missionaries,  in  bear- 
skins, in  order  to  throw  them  out  to  be  baited  by  an  ill-natur- 
ed world,  he  proceeds  to  rake  up  the  very  ashes  of  the  dead  ; 
and,  like  the  witch  of  Endor,  as  far  as  in  him  lies,  attempts 
to  bring  up  and  disquiet  the  ghosts  of  one  of  the  most  venera- 
ble sets  of  men  that  ever  lived  upon  the  earth  ;  I  mean,  the 
good  old  puritans  :  *  For  these,'  says  our  author,  '  who  now 
go  under  the  name  of  Methodists,  in  the  days  of  our  fore- 
fathers, under  the  firm  reign  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  were  called 
precisians  :  but  then,  as  a  precious  metal  which  had  under- 
gone its  trial  in  the  fire,  and  left  all  its  dross,  the  sect,  with 
great  propriety,  changed  its  name '  (a  very  likely  thing,  to 
give  themselves  a  nick-name,  indeed,)  '  from  precisian  to 
puritan.  Then  in  the  weak  and  distracted  times  of  Charles 
I.  it  ventured  to  throw  off"  the  mask,  and  under  the  new  name 
of  independent,  became  the  chief  agent  of  all  the  dreadful  dis- 
orders which  terminated  that  unhappy  reign.'  So  that,  ac- 
cording to  this  author's  heraldic,  genealogical  fiction,  '  meth- 
odism  is  the  younger  daughter  to  independency,  and  now  a 
Methodist  is  an  apostolic  independent,'  (God  grant  he  may 
always  deserve  such  a  glorious  appellation,)  '  but  an  inde- 
pendent was  then  a  Mahometan  Methodist.'  Pages  142 — 
144.  What!  an  independent  a  Mahometan  Methodist  ?  What! 
the  learned  Dr.  Owen,  the  great  Dr.  Goodwin,  the  amiable 
Mr.  Howe,  and  those  glorious  worthies  who  first  planted  the 
New  England  churches,  Mahometan  Methodists  "?  Would  to 
God,  that  not  only  this  writer,  but  all  who  now  profess  to 
preach  Christ  in  this  land,  were  not  only  almost,  but  alto- 
gether such  Mahometan  Methodists  in  respect  to  the  doctrine 
of  divine  influence,  as  they  were  !  For  I  will  venture  to  affirm, 
that  if  it  had  not  been  for  such  Mahometan  Methodists,  and 
their  successors,  the  free-grace  dissenters,  we  should  some 
years  ago  have  been  in  danger  of  sinking  into  Mahometan 
methodism  indeed ;  I  mean,  into  a  Christianity  destitute  of 
any  divine  influence  manifesting  itself  in  grace  and  know- 
ledge, and  void  of  any  spiritual  aid  in  spiritual  distresses. 
But  from  such  a  Christianity,  good  Lord,  deliver  this  happy 
land !     The  design  our  author  had  in  view  in  drawing  such  a 


454         whitefield's   life   and   times. 

parallel,  is  easily  seen  through.  Doubtless,  to  expose  the 
present  Methodists  to  the  jealousy  of  the  civil  government. 
For,  he  says,  p.  142,  '  We  see  methodism  at  present  under  a 
well-established  government,  where  it  is  obliged  to  wear  a 
less  audacious  look.  To  know  its  true  character,  we  should 
see  it  in  all  its  fortunes.'  And  doth  this  writer  then,  in  order 
to  gratify  a  sinful  curiosity  of  seeing  methodism  in  all  its  for- 
tunes, desire  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  weak  and  dis- 
tracted times  of  Charles  I.  brought  back  again  ?  Or  dares  he 
insinuate,  that  because,  as  he  immediately  adds,  our  country 
hath  been  productive  of  every  strange  thing,  '  that  we  are  in 
the  least  danger  now  of  any  such  distracting  turn,  since  we  have 
a  king  upon  the  throne  who,  in  his  first,  most  gracious  speech 
to  both  houses  of  Parliament,  declared  he  would  preserve  the 
Act  of  Toleration  inviolable  ?  And  that  being  the  case,  bless- 
ed be  God,  we  are  in  no  danger  of  any  return  of  such  weak 
and  distracted  times,  either  from  the  apostolic  independents, 
Mahometan  Methodists,  or  any  religious  sect  or  party  what- 
soever.' My  dear  friend,  '  if  this  is  not  gibbeting  up  names 
with  unregenerate  malice,  to  everlasting  infamy,'  I  know 
not  what  is.  But  it  happens  in  this,  as  in  similar  cases, 
whilst  men  are  thus  busy  in  gibbeting  up  the  names  of  others, 
they  unwittingly,  like  Hainan,  when  preparing  a  gallows  for 
that  apostolic  independent,  that  Mahometan  Methodist,  Mor- 
decai,  all  the  while  are  only  erecting  a  gibbet  for  their  own. 

"  But,  methinks,  I  see  you  now  begin  to  be  impatient  to 
know  (and  indeed  I  have  neither  inclination  nor  leisure  at 
present  to  pursue  our  author  any  further)  who  this  can  be, 
that  takes  such  gigantic  strides  ?  I  assure  you  he  is  a  perfect 
Goliath  in  the  retinue  of  human  learning. —  VV  ill  you  guess  ? — 
Perhaps  Dr.  Taylor  of  Norwich. — No — he  is  dead.  Cer- 
tainly not  a  churchman  1  Yes  ;  a  member,  a  minister,  a  digni- 
tary, a  bishop  of  the  church  of  England  ; — and,  to  keep  you 
no  longer  in  suspense,  it  is  no  less  a  man  than  Dr.  Warbur- 
ton,  the  author  of  "The  Divine  Legation  of  Moses,"  and  now 
William  Lord  Bishop  of  Gloucester.  I  know  you  are  ready 
to  say,  '  Tell  it  not  in  Gath,  publish  it  not  in  the  streets  of 
Askelon.'  But,  my  dear  friend,  what  can  he.  done  ?  His  lord- 
ship hath  published  it  himself:  nay,  his  book  hath  just  gone 
through  a  second  impression  ;  and  that  you  may  see  and 
judge  for  yourself,  whether  I  have  wronged  his  lordship  or 
not,  (as  it  is  not  very  weighty,)  I  have  sent  you  the  book  it- 
self.    Upon  the  perusal,  I  am  persuaded  you  will  at  least  be 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       455 

thus  far  of  my  opinion,  that,  however,  decus  et  tut  amen  is  al- 
ways the  motto  engraven  upon  a  bishop's  mitre,  it  is  not 
always  most  certain,  though  his  lordship  says  it  is,  p.  202, 
that  they  are  written  on  every  prelate1 s  breast?  And  how  can 
this  prelate,  in  particular,  be  said  to  be  the  ornament  and  safe- 
guard of  the  church  of  England,  when  his  principles  are  as 
directly  contrary  to  the  offices  of  that  church,  over  which  he 
is  by  divine  permission  made  overseer,  as  light  is  contrary  to 
darkness?  lou  know,  my  dear  friend,  what  our  ministers  are 
taught  to  say,  when  they  baptize  :  '  I  beseech  you  to  call 
upon  God  the  Father,  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  that  of 
his  bounteous  goodness  he  will  grant  to  this  child  that  thing 
which  by  nature  he  cannot  have.'  But  what  says  his  lord- 
ship ?  'All  influence  exceeding  the  power  of  humanity,  is  mi- 
raculous, and  therefore  to  abate  or  be  totally  withdrawn,  now 
the  church  is  perfectly  established.'  What  say  they  when 
they  catechize  I  '  My  good  child,  know  this,  that  thou  art 
not  able  to  do  these  things  of  thyself,  nor  to  walk  in  the  com- 
mands of  God,  and  to  serve  him,  without  his  special  grace.' 
But  what  says  his  lordship  ?  '  A  rule  of  faith  being  now  estab- 
lished, the  conviction  which  the  weight  of  human  testimony, 
and  the  conclusions  of  human  reason,  afford,  are  abundantly 
sufficient  to  support  us  in  our  religious  perseverance.'  What 
says  his  lordship  himself,  when  he  confirms  children  thus 
catechized  ]  '  Strengthen  them,  we  beseech  thee,  0  Lord, 
with  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  Comforter,  and  daily  increase  in 
them  thy  manifold  gifts  and  grace,  the  spirit  of  wisdom  and 
understanding,  the  spirit  of  counsel  and  ghostly  strength.' 
But  what  says  his  lordship,  when  he  speaks  his  own  senti- 
ments ?  'All  aids  in  spiritual  distresses,  as  well  as  those 
which  administered  help  in  corporeal  diseases,  are  now  abated 
or  totally  withdrawn.'  What  says  his  lordship  when  he  or- 
dains ?  '  Doest  thou  trust  that  thou  art  inwardly  moved  by  the 
Holy  Ghost  ?  then,  receive  thou  the  Holy  Ghost.' 

"  What  says  his  lordship,  when  pronouncing  the  blessing  ? 
'  The  peace  of  God,  which  passeth  all  understanding,  keep 
your  hearts  and  minds  in  the  knowledge  and  love  of  God.' 
But  what  says  his  lordship  when  retired  to  his  study  ?  '  All 
supernatural  influence,  manifesting  itself  in  grace  and  know- 
ledge, is  miraculous,  and  therefore  to  cease  under  a  perfect 

establishment-'     What  says But  I  check  myself;  for  the 

time  would  fail  me,  were  I  to  urge  all  those  quotations  that 
might  be  produced  out  of  the  articles,  homilies,  and  public 


456        whitefield's  life   and  times. 

offices,  to  confront  and  invalidate  the  whole  tenor  and  founda- 
tion of  his  lordship's  performance.  But  how  it  is  consistent 
with  that  wisdom  which  is  from  above,  (and  by  which  his  lord- 
ship attempts  to  arraign,  try,  and  condemn,  the  Reverend  Mr. 
John  Wesley,)  to  subscribe  to,  and  make  use  of,  public  offices 
in  the  church,  and  then  as  publicly  deny  and  contradict  them 
in  the  press,  I  leave  to  his  lordship's  more  calm  and  deliberate 
consideration.  Sure  I  am,  if  weighed  in  the  same  balance, 
his  lordship  would  be  found  equally  wanting,  at  least.  In- 
deed, during  the  whole  trial,  I  could  scarcely  refrain  breaking 
out  into  the  language  of  the  eunuch  of  Queen  Candace  to 
Philip  the  evangelist,  '  Speaketh  the  prophet  this  of  himself, 
or  of  some  other  man  ? '  I  hope,  my  dear  friend,  you  know  me 
better  than  to  suspect  I  thus  retort  upon  his  lordship,  in  order 
to  throw  dust  in  your  eyes,  to  prevent  your  seeing  what  his 
lordship  may  justly  except  against  in  the  conduct  of  the 
Methodists  in  general,  or  in  the  journals  of  the  Reverend  Mr. 
John  Wesley  in  particular.  Whatever  that  indefatigable  la- 
bourer may  think  of  his,  you  know  I  have  long  since  publicly 
acknowledged,  that  there  were,  and  doubtless,  though  now 
sent  forth  in  a  more  correct  attire,  there  are  yet,  many  excep- 
tionable passages  in  my  journals.  And  I  hope  it  will  be  one 
of  the  constant  employments  of  my  declining  years,  to  hum- 
ble myself  daily  before  the  most  high  God,  for  the  innumera- 
ble mixtures  of  corruption  which  have  blended  themselves 
with  my  feeble,  but,  I  trust,  sincere  endeavours,  whether  from 
the  press  or  pulpit,  to  promote  the  Redeemer's  glory,  and  the 
eternal  welfare  of  precious  and  immortal  souls.  And  I  assure 
you,  that  if  his  lordship  had  contented  himself  with  pointing 
out,  or  even  ridiculing,  any  such  blemishes  or  imprudences, 
or  yet  still  more  important  mistakes,  in  my  own,  or  any  of  the 
Methodist's  conduct  or  performances,  I  should  have  stood 
entirely  silent.  But  when  I  observed  his  lordship  through 
almost  his  whole  book,  not  only  wantonly  throwing  about  the 
arrows  and  firebrands  of  scurrility,  buffoonery,  and  personal 
abuse,  but,  at  the  same  time,  on  account  of  some  unguarded 
expressions  and  indiscretions  of  a  particular  set  of  honest, 
though  fallible,  men,  taking  occasion  to  wound,  vilify,  and 
totally  deny  the  all-powerful,  standing  operations  of  the  bless- 
ed Spirit,  by  which  alone  his  lordship  or  any  other  man  living 
can  be  sanctified  and  sealed  to  the  day  of  eternal  redemption, 
I  must  own  that  I  was  constrained  to  vent  myself  to  you,  as 
a  dear  and  intimate  friend,  in  the  manner  I  have  done.    Make 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       457 

what  use  of  it  you  please  ;  perhaps  hereafter  I  may  trouble 
you  with  some  further  remarks."     Letter. 

It  was  a  significant  "  sign  of  the  times,"  that  Payne,  the  ac- 
comptant-general  of  the  Bank  of  England,  wrote  an  answer 
to  Warburton.  I  ought  also  to  add,  that  the  bishop  could  per- 
secute as  well  as  rail.  This  ought  to  be  known  ;  because  he 
appears  somewhat  amiable  in  his  correspondence  with  Dod- 
dridge, and  not  a  little  faithful  in  exposing  "  the  unclean 
beasts"  in  his  own  ark.  Adams  of  Stinchcombe,  near  Glou- 
cester, was  the  friend  of  Whitefield  and  Venn.  He  was  an 
infirm  man,  but  zealous.  Warburton  had  been  his  patron  ; 
but  when  he  began  to  itinerate,  and  to  preach  for  Lady  Hun- 
tingdon at  Bath,  the  bishop  insisted,  in  his  own  style,  upon 
strict  residence  at  home.  "  I  shall  insist,"  he  says,  "  upon 
your  constant  residence  in  your  parish, — not  so  much  for  the 
good  you  are  likely  to  do  there,  as  to  prevent  the  mischief  you 
may  do  by  rambling  about  to  other  places.  Your  bishop  and 
(though  your  fanatic  conduct  has  almost  made  me  ashamed  to 
own  it)  your  patron,  W.  Gloucester." 

Adams  remonstrated,  and  proved  that  during  three  years  he 
had  only  been  three  months  non-resident.  He  argued  also 
that  he  had  accepted  Stinchcombe,  a  living  of  36/.  per  annum, 
in  preference  to  one  of  80/.,  because  he  was  unable  to  give 
full  service.  All  this  was  in  vain.  He  was  a  Methodist. 
Warburton,  therefore,  (without  a  divine  legation,)  replied,  "  If 
I  indulged  you  in  giving  your  parish  only  one  service  on  Sun- 
day, I  hereby  revoke  that  indulgence,  and  insist  upon  your 
giving  them  full  service."     Nichols. 

It  might  have  been  unsafe  then  to  defy  such  legates,  when 
they  interdicted  itineracy ;  and  even  now  an  infirm  man 
could  do  no  good  by  rambling  ;  but  let  some  men  of  renown 
take  the  field,  and  their  gowns  are  as  safe  as  any  mitre  on 
the  bench.  Mitres  must  now  lead  on  the  evangelization  of 
the  country,  or  follow  cardinal's  hats  to  Rome. 


39 


458       whitefield's    life    and    times. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

whitefield's    last    labours    at    home. 

Although  Whitefield's  last  days  were  not  "  his  best  days," 
either  at  home  or  abroad,  they  were  both  happy  and  useful 
days.  The  very  evening  of  his  life  includes  more  labour  and 
success  than  the  whole  day  of  ordinary  men.  After  opening 
the  countess  chapel  at  Bath,  the  care  of  his  own  chapels  in 
London  quite  absorbed  him  for  some  months.  He  could  nei- 
ther range  nor  revisit,  because  of  the  difficulty  of  supplying 
his  pulpits.  Besides,  he  was  too  weak  "to  do  now  as  he  had 
done."  He  thought  himself  fit  only  to  "  stand  by  an  old  gun 
or  two  in  a  garrison,"  instead  of  leading  the  battle.  But  such 
thoughts  did  not  last  long  in  his  mind.  His  "  old  ambition  " 
soon  returned,  whenever  his  strength  or  spirits  rallied  for  a 
day.  A  very  slight  improvement  in  his  health  would  make 
him  exclaim, — "  Who  knows  but  this  feeble  arm  may  yet  be 
strengthened  to  annoy  the  enemy  1 " 

In  the  spring  of  1766,  he  was  assisted  by  Occum,  the  In- 
dian preacher,  who  came  over  with  YYhitaker,  to  collect  for 
Dr.  Wheelock's  college.  He  was  much  pleased  with  Oc- 
cum's  spirit,  and  with  his  preaching ;  for  both  the  noble  and 
the  poor  heard  him  gladly,  and  contributed  liberally.  White- 
field  threw  all  his  soul  into  this  enterprise,  and  nearly  a  thou- 
sand pounds  were  soon  raised  for  it.  Even  the  king,  through 
the  influence  of  Lord  Dartmouth,  contributed  to  the  fund. 
Occum,  as  well  as  his  object,  deserved  this  welcome.  He 
was  a  superior  man  and  a  popular  preacher  in  his  own  coun- 
try, both  in  the  woods  and  in  the  cities.  He  died  in  1 792,  at 
New  Stockbridge,  and  was  followed  to  the  grave  by  three 
hundred  weeping  Indians. 

In  the  spring  and  summer  of  1766,  Whitefield  paid  some 
visits  to  Bath  and  Bristol,  for  the  benefit  of  the  waters,  and 
in  the  hope  of  making  excursions.  But  both  the  weather  and 
his  health  were  bad,  and  he  could  seldom  preach  in  these 
cities,  except  at  six  in  the  morning.  But  even  at  that  hour 
he  had  large  audiences. 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        459 

Two  things  pleased  him  much  at  this  time.  He  had  got 
Fletcher  of  Madely  into  his  pulpits  at  London,  and  had  form- 
ed an  acquaintance  with  Rowland  Hill.  Of  the  former  he 
said,  "  Dear  Mr.  Fletcher  is  become  a  scandalous  Totten- 
ham Court  preacher."  "  Were  we  more  scandalous,  more 
good  would  be  done."  Still,  "  the  shout  of  a  King  is  yet 
heard  in  the  Methodist  camp."  This  was  particularly  the 
case  in  Bath,  before  Whitefield  returned  to  winter  quarters. 
The  nobility  crowded  to  hear  him  ;  and  whatever  effect  his 
sermons  had  upon  them,  many  of  the  poor  were  effectually 
called.  Such  was,  however,  the  apparent  impression  on  all 
ranks,  that  he  left  Bath,  longing  and  praying  that  God  would 
open  his  way  again  into  all  the  towns  in  England. 

This  prayer  was  not  granted :  but  God  enabled  Whitefield 
to  quicken  the  zeal  of  stronger  men.  He  heard  of  "  four 
Methodist  parsons  "  being  the  guests  of  one  of  his  friends, 
and  exclaimed,  "  Four  Methodist  parsons ! — it  is  enough  to 
set  a  whole  kingdom  on  fire,  when  Jesus  says, — Loose  them, 
and  let  them  go  !  "  This  message  was  followed  up  by  an  ap- 
peal to  them,  which  must  have  been  felt : — "•  Indeed,  and  in- 
deed, my  dear  and  honoured  friends,  I  am  ashamed  of  myself. 
I  blush  and  am  confounded,  so  very  little  have  I  done  or  suf- 
fered for  Jesus  !  What  a  poor  Jigure  shall  I  make  amongst 
the  saints,  confessors,  and  martyrs  around  His  throne,  with- 
out some  deeper  signatures  of  his  divine  impress,  without 
more  scars  of  Christian  honour!  To-morrow  I  intend  to  take 
the  sacrament  upon  it,  that  I  w ill  begin  to  begin  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian." It  was  appeals  of  this  kind  which  made  the  Romaines 
and  Venns  (nothing  loth!)  bestir  themselves;  and  which 
brought  around  Whitefield  the  Shirleys  and  De  Courcys  of 
the  time.  Another  way  in  which  he  helped  on,  at  this  time, 
the  work  he  had  begun,  was  by  prefacing  a  new  edition  of 
Bunyan's  Works  ;  and  thus  reviving  public  attention  to  the 
old  puritans,  by  grouping  their  names  with  those  of  the  re- 
formers :  a  process  equally  fair  and  wise  !  They  libel  the  re- 
formers, who  think  them  at  all  lowered  by  identifying  Owen, 
Baxter,  or  Bunyan  with  them.  These  men  dwell  in  the  same 
mansion  in  heaven,  with  Latimer,  Jewel,  and  Usher.  Let, 
therefore,  all  who  believe  their  identity  maintain  it!  The  con- 
viction will  soon  enthrone  itself  in  the  public  mind,  in  spite  of 
all  the  efforts  made  to  keep  up  a  distinction.  There  is  no 
real  distinction.  They  were  only  distinct  billows  of  the  one 
sea  of  protes&nt  reformation.      Their  differences  were  mere 


460         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

foam,  which  the  halcyon  wings  of  time  and  truth  will  soon 
obliterate.  Or,  it'  there  be  a  bench  in  heaven,  Bunyan  is  an 
archbishop ! 

In  the  spring  of  1707,  Whitefield  visited  Cambridge  and 
Norwich,  and  preached  with  something  of  his  old  power  for 
some  time.  He  left  London,  intending  a  "  large  plan  of 
operations  ;"  but  his  "  inward  fever  "  returned  upon  him,  and 
checked  him.  Lady  Huntingdon  then  took  him  to  Rodbo- 
rough  by  easy  stages,  and  he  was  soon  in  the  fields  again. 
This  encouraged  him  to  enter  into  Wales  also  ;  for  he  had 
great  faith  in  the  "  thirty-year-old  methodistical  medicine,"  of 
preaching  in  the  open  air ;  and  the  Welsh  liked  him  best  in 
that  element.  "  Thousands  on  thousands,"  therefore,  now 
met  him  around  his  "field  throne,"  and  light  and  life  flew  in 
all  directions,  as  in  the  days  of  old.  This  was,  however, 
more  than  he  could  stand  long.  Both  the  work  and  the  re- 
ward were  too  much  for  his  strength  to  sustain.  He  was 
soon  as  thankful  to  be  again  on  "  this  side  of  the  Welsh 
mountains,"  as  he  had  been  to  get  to  "  the  other  side  "  of 
them,  although  they  rung  with  the  cry,  "  Evermore  give  this 
bread  of  life." 

In  the  summer  he  returned  to  London,  weak  but  lively ; 
and  finding  that  some  laymen  had  not  been  unacceptable  nor 
unsuccessful  in  his  pulpits,  "  the  itch  for  itinerating  "  return- 
ed upon  him,  he  says,  to  a  degree  not  curable  "  out  of  hea- 
ven ; "  and  therefore  he  prepared  to  go  into  Yorkshire  again, 
upon  "  a  blessed  Methodist  field-street  preaching  plan."  He 
now  preferred  streets  to  fields  ;  I  do  not  know  why.  Per- 
haps he  was  afraid  of  sudden  attacks  of  illness,  and  wished  to 
be  near  medical  help.  However  that  may  be,  he  had  to  ex- 
claim at  almost  every  stage,  "  Old  methodism  is  the  thing. 
Hallelujah !  Good  old  work — good  old  seasons."  Both 
were  improved  at  this  time  by  the  company  and  help  of  Cap- 
tain Scott,  who  often  preached  for  him. 

This  Yorkshire  tour  improved  his  health,  notwithstanding 
all  the  fatigue  he  went  through  ;  because  he  travelled  much, 
and  always  on  horseback.  He  was,  therefore,  afraid  of  Lon- 
don, where  he  had  much  labour,  and  no  riding.  It  tempted 
him  to  nestle,  he  said;  and  his  favourite  maxim  was,  ''No 
nestling,  no  nestling,  on  this  side  Jordan."  On  his  arrival  at 
home,  he  preached  tor  the  Religious  Book  Society  at  the  Ta- 
bernacle, and  afterwards  dined  with  them  at  Drapers'  Hull. 
On  this  occasion  (and  it  was  both  the  first  and  the  last)  al- 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        461 

most  all  the  dissenting  ministers  of  London  heard  him,  and 
met  him  at  dinner.  He  was  pleased,  and  they  seem  to  have 
been  so  too:  for  the  collection  amounted  to  £105,  and  eighty 
new  subscribers  were  obtained.  It  is  thus  unity  of  heart  is 
produced,  by  uniting  hands  in  work  which  cannot  be  carried 
on  without  peace  and  good-will.  But  for  this  society,  White- 
field  and  the  London  ministers,  as  a  body,  would  hardly  have 
known  each  other,  except  by  name.  This  fact  should  not  be 
forgotten  by  the  dissenters.  It  was  at  this  door  Whitefield 
and  they  entered  into  the  fellowship  and  unity  of  the  Spirit. 
And  what  has  been  the  effect  1  His  memory  is  an  enshrin- 
ed star,  and  his  name  a  watch-word,  in  all  their  orthodox 
churches. 

At  this  time,  he  had  much  labour  and  more  care  pressing 
upon  him.     The   question  of  his  college  at  Bethesda  was 
coming  to  a  crisis,  and  he  had  a  "  little  college  of  outcasts  " 
(as  he  calls  some  false  and  fickle  brethren)  to  reclaim  from 
error  and  apostacy.     In  regard  to  the  former,  he  began  by 
memorializing  the   king ;    informing  his  majesty,   that  there 
was  no  seminary  for  academical  studies  southward  of  Vir- 
ginia, and  thus  no  stimulus  to  improvement  in  Georgia  ;  that 
he  had  expended  twelve  thousand  pounds  upon  Bethesda,  and 
thus  laid  a  foundation  for  a  college,  if  a  charter  like  that  of 
New  Jersey  were   granted.     He   then  sent,    through  Lord 
Dartmouth,   a  draught  of  the   charter  to  the  archbishop  of 
Canterbury.     His  grace  sent  it  to  the  premier  ;  and  the  pre- 
mier sent  it  back,  requiring  that  the  head  of  the  college  should 
be  an  episcopalian,  and  its  prayers  established  forms  : — not 
very   modest  requisitions   in   a  case  where  the  money  came 
chiefly  out  of  the  pockets  of  American  and  British  dissenters ! 
Whitefield  explained  and  pleaded  this  fact,  until  his  patience 
was  worn  out :    he  then,   very  properly,  begged  leave  to  in- 
form  his   grace,  that  he  would  "  trouble  him  no  more,  but 
turn  the  charity  into  a  more  generous  and  useful  channel." 
"  Accordingly,  he  resolved,"  says  Gillies,  "  in  the  mean  time, 
to  add  a  public  academy  to  the  orphan-house,  and  wait  for  a 
more  favourable  opportunity  for  making  a  fresh  application 
for  a  charter  upon  a  broad  bottom."     That  opportunity  he 
never  found.     His  failure  to  obtain  a  charter,  however  pitia- 
ble or  paltry  in  its  causes,  cannot  surprise  those  who  know 
the  history  of  the  charter  of  the  London  university.     Nearly 
a  century  was  required  to  make  the  state  wiser  than  it  was  in 
the  days  of  Whitefield  ;  and  even  that  long  period  has  not  im- 
39* 


462        white  field's  life   and  times. 

proved  the  liberality  of  the  church  much.  Oxford  still  frowns, 
and  Cambridge  does  not  smile,  upon  the  call  for  open  doors. 
There  are,  however,  men  in  both  universities,  who  would  be 
glad  to  see  them  open  ;  and  men  out  of  both,  who  will  not 
stop  their  "  Sesame,"  because  a  charter  has  been  won  for  the 
London  university.  In  the  mean  time,  (and  I  record  it  with 
pleasure  and  gratitude,)  a  dissenter  may  find  more  than  cour- 
tesy at  the  libraries,  when  he  has  occasion  to  visit  them  for 
literary  purposes.  I  have  found  Oxford  "  more  noble  than  " 
Red-cross  street. 

Whitefield  having  failed  to  obtain  a  charter  for  a  college 
abroad,  opened  an  unchartered  one  at  home, — Trevecca  in 
Wales.  This  was  a  timely  measure  ;  for  Oxford  had  just 
expelled  six  praying  students,  and  thus  proved  to  Lady 
Huntingdon  that  it  would  be  no  nursery  for  the  kind  of  min- 
isters she  wanted.  Another  college  was,  also,  a  practical 
comment  upon  Vice-Chancellor  Durell's  edict ;  which  was 
more  intelligible  to  the  heads  of  houses,  than  either  White- 
field's  solemn  remonstrances  or  the  Shavi:r's  sarcastic  re- 
bukes. They  could  comprehend  a  Methodist  seminary  bet- 
ter than  methodistical  defences  of  extempore  prayer.  Whilst, 
therefore,  the  spirit-stirring  pamphlets  of  Whitefield  and 
M'Gowan  placed  the  heads  of  houses  before  the  public,  as 
the  persecutors  of  godly  students,  Trevecca  placed  before 
them  a  specimen  of  reaction  which  they  had  not  foreseen. 

I  am  not  willing  to  enter  at  present  upon  the  history  of 
the  Countess's  college.  There  is  now  an  opportunity  of  re- 
storing it  to  its  original  purpose  and  spirit.  It  ought  not  to 
be  the  least  amongst  the  schools  of  the  prophets,  nor  the  last 
in  aggressive  evangelization.  It  ought  to  have  been  to 
Whitefield  and  its  founder,  what  Elisha  was  to  Elijah,  the 
heir  of  both  their  mantle  and  spirit ;  but  it  has  long  had  nei- 
ther. As  the  college  of  the  existing  "  Connexion,"  it  is,  per- 
haps, all  that  could  be  fairly  expected ;  but  as  the  \\  hitefield 
seminary  it  is  nothing.  I  could  say  much  on  this  subject ; 
— and  I  will  say  much,  should  I  be  spared  to  publish  The 
History  of  Methodism  as  a  reformation, — if  nothing  is  done 
to  give  efficiency  to  Cheshunt.  In  the  mean  time,  I  not  only 
forbear,  but  fondly  hope  that  I  may  have  no  occasion  to  re- 
monstrate. There  remains  enough  of  Whitefield  leaven  in 
the  lump,  to  ferment  the  whole,  if  well  managed;  and  there 
are  some  managers  Whitcficldian  in  their  spirit.  I  charge 
them,  "  before  God,  and  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  elect 


whitefield's   life   and  times.         463 

angels,  and  many  witnesses,"  to  make  Cheshunt  what  the 
Countess  and  Whitefield  intended  and  anticipated  !  They 
expected  to  hear  more  of  it  in  heaven — than  they  have  heard. 
They  ought  to  have  heard  more.  They  shall  hear  more. 
Let  their  joy  be  fulfilled  soon  !  It  has  been  too  long  postpon- 
ed. Besides,  Cheshunt  needs  only  a  commanding  man  in  its 
theological  chair,  in  order  to  renovate  it:  and  if  any  minvtice 
of  its  old  rules  stand  in  the  way  of  such  a  man,  or  in  the  way 
of  students,  what  is  a  departure  from  such  forms,  compared 
with  a  departure  from  its  original  spirit  and  design  ? 

I  have  a  right  to  be  thus  explicit  on  this  subject.  I  am  as 
responsible  for  the  facts,  concerning  the  original  design  of 
this  college,  as  the  trustees  are  for  its  funds  ;  and  I  will  deal 
as  honestly  with  them.  I  know  that  the  endowments  of 
Trevecca  died  with  the  Countess.  I  refer  only,  therefore,  to 
Cheshunt's  inheritance  of  what  can  never  die, — the  names  of 
Lady  Huntingdon  and  George  Whitefield.  These  are  more 
precious  than  the  gold  of  Ophir,  and  their  possession  involves 
higher  and  holier  responsibilities  than  "  much  fine  gold  " 
could  bring  with  it.  This  is  my  sole  reason  for  speaking  at 
all  ;  and  therefore  I  have  spoken  out 

Whilst  engaged  in  maturing  the  college  at  Trevecca,  and 
opening  chapels  for  the  Countess,  Whitefield  lost  his  wife. 
On  this  subject,  I  have  nothing  to  add  to  a  former  chapter ; 
except  that  his  own  health  and  spirits  declined  afterwards. 
Still  he  preached,  although  often  bringing  up  blood  when  he 
came  down  from  the  pulpit. 

It  will  be  gratifying  to  the  reader  to  learn,  that  Trevecca, 
so  long  holy  ground,  and  so  intimately  associated  with  the 
name  and  labours  of  Howel  Harris,  is  about  to  become  a 
theological  seminary  for  the  Welsh  Calvinistic  Methodists. 
Let  them  realize  the  designs  of  Whitefield  ! — and  do  justice 
to  the  memory  of  Harris  !  Some  will  watch  vigilantly,  and  I 
for  one,  how  his  memory  is  treated,  when  Trevecca  is  again 
made  a  college.  He  belongs  too  much  to  the  ecclesiastical 
history  of  his  country,  to  be  forgotten  or  misrepresented. 
This  hint  will  be  understood  by  my  friend  John  Llias,  and 
not  lost,  I  hope,  on  some  of  his  friends  in  the  principality. 


464        whitefield's  life    and    times. 


CHAPTER    XXVII. 

WHITEFIELD      AND      EDMUND-HALL. 

The  well-known  expulsion  of  six  students  from  Oxford,  in 
1763,  was  thus  announcer]  in  the  St.  James's  Chronicle  :  — 
"'On  Fridaylast,  six  students  belonging  to  Edmund-Hall, were 
expelled  the  University,  after  a  hearing  of  several  hours, 
before  Mr.  Vice-Chancellor,  and  some  of  the  heads  of  houses, 
for  holding  Methodistical  tenets,  and  taking  upon  them 
to  pray,  read  and  expound  the  Scriptures,  and  singing  hymns 
in  a  private  house.  The  (principal)  of  the  College,  (Dr. 
Dixon)  defended  their  doctrines  from  the  Thirty-nine  Articles 
of  the  established  church,  and  spoke  in  the  highest  terms  of 
the  piety  and  exemplariness  of  their  lives  :  but  his  motion 
was  over-ruled,  and  sentence  pronounced  against  them.  One 
of  the  heads  of  houses  present  observed,  that  as  these  six  gen- 
tlemen were  expelled  for  having  too  much  religion,  it  would 
be  very  proper  to  inquire  into  the  conduct  of  some  who  had 
too  little  !  Mr.  (the  Vice-Chancellor)  Durell,  was  heard  to 
tell  the  chief  accuser,  that  the  University  was  much  obliged 
to  him  for  his  good  work  !  " 

The  form,  as  well  as  the  facts  of  the  Oxford  bull,  deserves 
preservation — because  it  will  be  the  last  of  its  race  : — for 
now,  public  opinion  would  expel  from  the  University  of 
Christian  fellowship,  any  number  of  heads  of  houses,  who 
should  repeat  this  act  of  tyranny.  That  great  tribunal  has  just 
pronounced  the  sentence  of  unqualified  condemnation  against 
the  late  popish  "  Oxford  Tracts,"  and  neither  the  chancellor, 
nor  the  vice-chancellor,  could  obtain,  were  they  to  try,  any 
mitigation  of  the  sentence.  The  tracts  are  unprotestant,  and 
therefore,  unpopular. 

The  hisses  and  yells  of  the  raw  witlings  of  Oxford,  against 
dissenters,  at  the  late  installation,  were  the  mere  ebullitions 
of  political  folly,  and  prove  nothing  against  the  University  but 
the  want  of  good  manners  on  gala  days  :  whereas  the  tracts 


WHITE  FIELD'S     LIFE     AND     TIMES.  465 

prove  want  of  good  theology  ;  a  defect  not  so  easily  remedied 
as  ill-breeding. 

It  is  one  way  of  remedying  both  to  keep  up  for  a  time  the 
names  and  the  acts  of  the  conclave,  who  excluded  six  Ox- 
onians for  extempore  prayer,  and  kept  in  one  who  was 
proved  guilty  of  ridiculing  the  miracles  of  Moses  and  Christ. 
Another  way,  (which  I  prefer,)  is,  to  perpetuate  the  names 
of  the  wise  and  good  men,  who  protested  against  these  out- 
rages on  truth,  decency,  and  consistency.  Oxford  was  never 
without  some  Abdiels.  Her  cloud  of  witnesses  is  not  great ; 
but  it  is  splendid  enough  to  inspire  both  hallowed  recollec- 
tions, and  high  anticipations.  I  have  felt  and  enjoyed  this 
when  musing  in  her  cloisters  and  halls.  Often  have  her  re- 
deeming spirits  gathered  around  my  own  spirit,  in  such  num- 
bers and  radiance,  that  I  forgot  every  thing  but  the  service 
she  had  rendered  to  the  Reformation,  and  the  power  she 
could  apply  to  the  defence  and  diffusion  of  the  gospel.  Oh, 
that  she  were  wise  to  win  souls  !  She  has  won  all  kinds  of 
fame,  but  the  immortality  of  leading  on  the  evangelization 
of  the  world.  If  I  am  not  her  enemy  in  writing  thus,— 
then  she  has  no  enemies  amongst  orthodox  dissenters.  Their 
eyes  are  upon  both  Universities  : — not  to  divide  the  popish 
spoil,  nor  to  divert  the  national  endowments  into  sectarian 
channels,  or  foreign  enterprises  ;  but  to  secure  for  all  who 
can  pay  for  it,  free  access  to  all  the  literature  and  science  of 
Cam  and  Isis. 

The  junto  who  expelled  Matthews,  Jones,  Shipman,  Kay, 
Middleton,  and  Grove,  were  Drs.  Durell,  Randolph,  Fother- 
gill,  Nowell,  and  the  senior  proctor,  Atterbury.  They 
evidently  feared  a  new  edition  of  Whitefield  and  Wesley  ! 
These  men,  who  had  "  turned  the  world  upside  down,"  and 
the  church  inside  out,  had  begun  with  reading,  praying,  and 
expounding  in  private  houses  ;  and,  if  two  did  so  much 
damage  to  the  old  system,  what  might  not  six  do  1  To  pre- 
vent this  danger,  "  each  of  them,  for  the  crimes  above  men- 
tioned," was  deemed  "  worthy  of  being  expelled  the  Hall !  " 
•*  I,  therefore,  by  my  visitorial  power,"  said  the  vice-chancel- 
lor, M  do  hereby  pronounce  them  expelled."  This  was  the 
form  of  the  bull ! 

Middleton,  in  his  "  Ecclesiastical  Memoir,"  laments  that 
«'  the  archives  "  of  Oxford  "  should  preserve  the  entry  of 
a  record  which  seemed  unsuitable  to  the  character  of  a  great 
protestant  community  in  the  eighteenth  century  :  but  its  un- 


46G        whitefield's   life   and  times. 

suitableness  is  just  the  reason  for  its  preservation.  Were  it 
not  in  the  archives,  it  would  hardly  be  credited  now ;  and  the 
next  century  would  deem  it  a  mere  calumny. 

Amongst  the  writers  who  exposed  the  folly  and  infamy  of 
this  decree,  was  Dr.  Home,  afterwards  bishop  of  Norwich. 
He  nobly  defended  the  students,  whilst  Sir  Richard  Hill  lash- 
ed, and  M'Gowan  shaved,  their  judges.  But  neither  this  de- 
fence, nor  that  volunteered  at  the  trial  by  two  heads  of  houses, 
prevented  Dr.  Nowell,  the  principal  of  St.  Mary's  Hall,  from 
attempting  to  justify  the  expulsion.  He  had  even  the  effront- 
ery to  plead  drunkenness  as  Welling's  excuse  for  ridiculing 
the  miracles  ! 

Whitefield  rebuked  this  conclave  with  much  severity  ;  but, 
in  a  better  spirit  than  the  baronet  or  the  Shaver.  His  let- 
ter to  Durell  on  the  occasion,  is  scarce  now,  and  as  it  is 
not  likely  to  be  re-printed,  I  subjoin  some  specimens  of  it. 
They  are  not,  however,  the  best  as  remonstrance,  although 
the  best  as  history.  Whitefield  never  wrote  better  than  on 
this  occasion. 

"  It  hath  gladdened  the  hearts  of  many,  and  afforded  mat- 
ter of  uncommon  joy  and  thanksgiving  to  the  Father  of 
mercies  and  God  of  all  consolation,  to  hear,  that  for  some  time 
past,  there  hath  been  a  more  than  common  religious  concern 
and  zeal  for  promoting  their  own  and  others'  salvation  among 
some  of  the  sons  of  the  prophets.  What  a  pleasing  prospect 
hath  hereby  been  opened  of  a  future  blessing  to  the  rising 
generation  !  A  blessing  which  we  well  hoped  would  be  not 
less  salutary  and  beneficial  to  the  moral,  than  the  new  cruse 
of  salt  was  to  part  of  the  natural  world,  which  the  prophet 
Elisha,  when  complaint  was  made  that  the  water  was  naught 
and  the  ground  barren,  cast  into  the  spring  of  waters,  with  a 
'  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  There  shall  not  be  from  thence  any 
more  dearth  or  barren  land  ;  so  the  waters  were  healed  unto 
this  day.  ' 

"  But  alas  !  how  is  this  general  joy  damped,  and  the  pleasing 
prospect  almost  totally  eclipsed,  by  a  late  melancholy  scene 
exhibited  in  that  very  place,  from  whence,  as  from  a  fountain, 
many  of  their  preachers  frequently  and  expressly  pray  that 
pure  streams  may  for  ever  flow,  to  water  the  city  of  the  living 
God.  You  need  not  be  told,  reverend  sir,  what  place  I  mean  ; 
i  t  was  the  famous  University  of  Oxford.  Nor  need  I  men- 
tion the  scene  exhibited  : — it  was  a  tribunal,  a  visitatorial 
tribunal,  erected  in  Edmund-Hall.     Six  pious  students,  who 


whitefield's    life   and    times.       467 

promised  to  be  the  salt  of  the  earth,  and  the  lights  of  the 
world,  entire  friends  to  the  doctrines  and  liturgy  of  our 
church,  by  a  citation  previously  fixed  upon  the  college-door, 
were  summoned  to  appear  before  this  tribunal.  They  did 
appear  ;  and,  as  some  were  pleased  to  term  it,  were  tried, 
convicted,  and — to  close  the  scene — in  the  chapel  of  the  same 
hall,  (consecrated  and  set  apart  for  nobler  purposes,  (had  the 
sentence  of  expulsion  publicly  read  and  pronounced  against 
them. 

11  So  severe  a  sentence,  in  an  age  when  almost  every  kind 
of  proper  discipline  is  held  with  so  lax  a  rein,  hath  naturally 
excited  a  curiosity  in  all  that  have  heard  of  it,  to  inquire  of 
what  notable  crime  these  delinquents  may  have  been  guilty,  to 
deserve  such  uncommonly  rigorous  treatment.  But  how  will 
their  curiosity  be  turned  into  indignation,  when  they  are  told, 
that  they  were  thus  rigorously  handled  for  doing  no  evil  at  all, 
and  that  '  no  fault  could  be  found  in  them,  save  in  the  law 
of  their  God?' 

"  It  is  true,  indeed,  one  article  of  impeachment  was,  4  that 
some  of  them  were  of  trades  before  they  entered  into  the 
University.'  But  what  evil  or  crime  worthy  of  expulsion  can 
there  be  in  that  1  To  be  called  from  any,  though  the  meanest 
mechanic  employ,  to  the  study  of  the  liberal  arts,  where  a  na- 
tural genius  hath  been  given,  was  never  yet  looked  upon  as  a 
reproach  to,  or  diminution  of,  any  great  and  public  character, 
whatsoever.  Profane  history  affords  us  a  variety  of  exam- 
ples of  the  greatest  heroes,  who  have  been  fetched  even  from 
the  plough  to  command  armies,  and  who  performed  the 
greatest  exploits  for  their  country's  good.  And  if  we  exa- 
mine sacred  history,  we  shall  find,  that  even  David,  after  he 
was  anointed  king,  looked  back,  with  sweet  complacence,  to 
the  rock  from  whence  he  was  hewn,  and  is  not  ashamed  to 
leave  it  upon  record,  that  '  God  took  him  away  from  the 
sheep-folds,  as  he  was  following  the  ewes,  great  with  young 
ones  ;  '  and,  as  though  he  loved  to  repeat  it,  '  he  took  him,' 
(says  he,)  'that  he  might  feed  Jacob  his  people,  and  Israel  his 
inheritance.' 

"  But  why  speak  I  of  David  1  when  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
David's  Lord,  and  David's  King,  had,  for  his  reputed  father, 
a  carpenter,  and  in  all  probability,  as  it  was  a  common 
proverb  among  the  Jews,  that  'he  who  did  not  teach  his  son 
a  trade,  taught  him  to  be  a  thief,'  he  worked  at  the  trade  of  a 


468     whitefield's    life    and    times. 

carpenter  himself.  For  this,  indeed,  he  was  reproached  and 
maligned  ;  '  Is  not  this,'  said  they,  '  the  carpenter's  son  1 ' 
nay,  '  Is  not  this  the  carpenter !  '  But  who  were  these  ma- 
ligners  1  The  greatest  enemies  to  the  power  of  godliness 
which  the  world  ever  saw,  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  that 
'  generation  of  vipers,'  as  John  the  Baptist  calls  them  ;  who, 
upon  every  occasion,  were  spitting  out  their  venom,  and 
shooting  forth  their  arrows,  even  bitter  words,  against  that  Son 
of  man,  even  that  Son  of  God,  who,  to  display  his  sovereignty, 
and  confound  the  wisdom  of  the  worldly  wise,  chose  poor  fish- 
ermen to  be  his  apostles  ;  and  whose  chief  of  the  apostles, 
though  bred  up  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel,  both  before  and  after 
his  call  to  the  apostleship,  laboured  with  his  own  hands,  and 
worked  at  the  trade  of  a  tent-maker. 

"  If  from  such  exalted  and  more  distant,  we  descend  to 
more  modern  and  inferior  characters,  we  shall  find  that  very 
late,  not  to  say  our  present,  times,  furnish  us  with  instances 
of  some,  even  of  our  dignitaries,  who  have  been  called 
from  trades  that  tended  to  help  and  feed  the  body,  not  only 
to  higher  employs  of  a  spiritual  nature,  but  to  preside  over 
those  that  have  the  care  of  souls.  And  who  knows  but 
some  of  these  young  students,  though  originally  mechanics, 
if  they  had  been  suffered  to  have  pursued  their  studies,  might 
have  either  climbed  after  them  to  some  preferment  in  the 
church,  or  been  advanced  to  some  office  in  that  University 
from  which  they  are  now  expelled  ?  One  of  the  present 
reverend  and  worthy  proctors,  we  are  told,  was  formerly  a 
lieutenant  in  the  army,  and  as  such  a  military  employ  was  no 
impediment  to  his  being  a  minister  or  proctor,  it  may  be  pre- 
sumed, that,  being  formerly  of  trades  could  have  been  no  just 
impediment  to  these  young  men  becoming,  in  process  of  time, 
true  gospel  ministers  and  good  soldiers  of  Jesus  Christ. 

"  Their  being  accustomed  to  prayer,  whether  with  or  without 
a  form,  would  by  no  means  disqualify  them  for  the  private  or 
public  discharge  of  their  ministerial  functions.  For  if  it  did, 
what  sinners,  what  great  sinners  must  they  have  been,  who 
prayed  in  an  extempore  way  before  any  forms  of  prayer  could 
be  printed  !  Why  also  are  not  some  few  others  expelled  for 
extempore  swearingV     Lett. 

Of  the  six  exiles  from  Edmund-Hall,  Erasmus  Middle- 
ton  was  the  most  distinguished.  He  was  sustained  at 
Cambridge  by  Fuller,  the  banker,  a  dissenter  :   and  ordained 


WHITEFIELDS     LIFE     AND    TIMES.  469 

in  Ireland,  by  the  bishop  of  Dovvne.  In  Scotland,  he  mar- 
ried a  branch  of  the  ducal  family  of  Gordon.  In  London,  he 
became  curate  to  Romaine  and  Cadogan,  and  compiled  his 
well  known  "  Biographia  Evangelica.  The  Fuller  family 
presented  him,  in  his  old  age,  with  the  living  of  'Purvey,  in 
Bedfordshire. 


40 


470        whitefield's  life   and  times. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

whitefield's    last    voyage. 

Many  things  conspired  to  enable  Whitefield  to  embark 
again  for  America,  without  suspecting  that  he  was  not  likely 
to  return.  Both  his  health  and  spirits  were  unusually  good. 
He  had  often  raised  his  old  war-cry,  "  Field  preaching,  field 
preaching  for  ever !  "  and  followed  it  up  with  the  shout, 
"Ebenezer,  Hallelujah,  Pentecost! ''  on  the  spots  of  his  for- 
mer triumphs.  His  chapels  in  London  also  were  well  provid- 
ed with  acceptable  supplies,  and  his  affairs  at  Georgia  all 
prosperous.  Indeed,  he  appears  to  have  had  nothing  to  vex 
him,  but  the  heavy  expense  incurred  for  coach-hire,  in  making 
his  last  excursions.  It  had  "  mounted  very  high,"  he  says  ; 
"  and  means  must  be  found  to  save  the  late  great  expense." 
This  proves  that  he  expected  to  return  ;  and  none  of  his  let- 
ters at  the  time  indicate  any  misgivings  of  heart,  or  breathe 
even  his  usual  longing  for  heaven.  "  I  am  brave  as  to  my 
bodily  health,  and  have  not  been  in  better  spirits  for  years," 
is  his  own  account  of  himself,  when  he  went  on  board  the 
Friendship  ;  and  of  his  prospects,  he  said,  "  I  am  persuaded 
this  voyage  will  be  for  the  Redeemer's  glory,  and  the  welfare 
of  precious  and  immortal  souls."  It  was — but  not  in  the 
way  he  anticipated.  Cornelius  Winter's  account  of  his  gene- 
ral tone  of  mind  and  body  agrees,  on  the  whole,  with  White- 
field's  own  account  of  himself.  He  had  occasional  seasons 
of  "  remarkable  lowness  and  languor,"  at  sea ;  but  he  was 
able  to  spend  much  of  his  time  in  close  study  of  the  History 
of  England,  and  in  preparing  sermons  ;  and  was  in  better 
health  at  the  end  of  the  voyage,  than  he  had  been  after  the 
generality  of  his  former  voyages. 

Thus  the  only  thing  which  really  oppressed  him,  on  leav- 
ing, was  the  pain  of  parting  from  his  friends  for  a  time.  But 
this  was  nothing  new  with  him.  What  he  said  now,  he  had 
said  often  ;  "  Oh  these  partings  !  without  a  divine  support 
they  would  be  intolerable.    Talk  not  of  taking  personal  leave  : 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         471 

you  know  my  make.  Paul  could  stand  a  whipping — but  not 
a  weeping  farewell."     Letters. 

The  parting  scene  at  the  Tabernacle  and  Tottenham  Court 
was  awful,  and  seems  to  have  been  repeated  :  for  he  says,  in 
his  own  manuscript  journal,  that  he  preached  on  the  vision  of 
Jacob's  ladder,  at  both  places  ;  and  Winter  says,  that  "  The 
Good  Shepherd  "  was  his  farewell  sermon.  Indeed,  White- 
field  himself,  in  a  letter,  calls  this  his  "  last  sermon."  Thus 
there  must  have  been  "  more  last  words  "  than  his  journal  re- 
cords. He  himself  was  "  disgusted  "  with  the  manner  in  which 
this  farewell  sermon  was  reported  and  printed.  Well  he 
might,  as  to  the  latter,  if  the  first  edition  was  like  the  second, 
which  is  now  before  me.  Still,  with  all  its  faults,  it  is  charac- 
teristic; and,  therefore,  I  will  give  some  specimens  of  it,  as 
few  persons  have  ever  seen  it. 

The  text  is,  John  x.  27,  28.  These  words,  it  will  be  recol- 
lected, were  uttered  by  Christ,  at  the  feast  of  dedication. 
"  This  festival,"  says  Whitefield,  "was  of  bare  human  inven- 
tion ;  and  yet  I  do  not  find  that  our  Lord  preached  against  it. 
And  I  believe,  that  when  we  see  things  as  we  ought,  we  shall 
not  entertain  our  auditories  about  rites  and  ceremonies — but 
about  the  grand  thing.  It  is  the  glory  of  Methodists,  that 
whilst  they  have  been  preaching  forty  years,  there  has  not 
been  (that  I  know  of)  one  single  pamphlet  published  by  them 
about  the  non-essentials  of  religion." 

On  the  words,  "  My  sheep  hear  my  voice,  and  they  follow 
me,"  he  says,  u  There  are  but  two  sorts  of  people.  Christ 
does  not  say,  Are  you  an  Independent,  a  Baptist,  a  Presbyte- 
rian, or  are  you  a  church  of  England  man  1  Nor  did  he  ask, 
Are  you  a  Methodist?  The  Lord  divides  the  whole  world  into 
sheep  and  goats.  0  sinners,  you  are  come  to  hear  a  poor 
creature  take  his  last  farewell :  but  I  want  you  to  forget  the 
creature  and  his  preaching.  I  want  to  lead  further  than  the 
Tabernacle — even  to  mount  Calvary,  to  see  with  what  ex- 
pense of  blood,  Jesus  Christ  purchased  '  his  own.'  Now, 
before  I  go  any  further,  will  you  be  so  good,  before  the  world 
gets  into  your  hearts,  to  inquire  whether  you  belong  to  Christ 
or  not?  Surely  the  world  did  not  get  into  your  hearts  before 
you  rose  from  your  beds !  Many  of  you  were  up  sooner  than 
usual."  (The  sermon  was  preached  at  seven  o'clock  in  the 
morning.)  "I  hope  the  world  does  not  get  into  your  hearts 
before  nine.     Man,  woman,  sinner  !    put  thy  hand  upon  thy 


472       whitefield's    life    and    times. 

heart,  and  say,  didst  thou  ever  hear  Christ's  voice  so  as  to 
follow  him  ? " 

Speaking  of  the  restoration  of  wandering  sheep,  he  said,  "I 
once  heard  Dr.  Marrvat — who  was  not  ashamed  of  market- 
language — say  at  Pinner's  Hall,  '  God  has  a  great  dog  to 
fetch  his  sheep  back  when  they  wander.'  He  sends  the  devil 
after  them,  to  bark  at  them  ;  but  instead  of  barking  them  fur- 
ther off,  he  barks  them  back  to  the  fold." 

On  the  subject  of  the  ministry,  he  said,  "  I  am  sure  I  never 
prayed  so  much  against  my  infirmities,  as  against  going  into 
holy  orders  so  soon.  However  some  may  come  to  preach 
here  and  there, — and  I  know  not  how  much  they  are  concern- 
ed,— but  I  am  sure  it  concerned  me  greatly.  I  have  prayed 
hundreds  of  times,  that  God  would  not  let  me  go  so  soon.  I 
remember  once  at  Gloucester — I  know  the  room — and  I  can- 
not help  looking  up  at  the  window,  whenever  I  am  there,  and 
going  by  :  I  know  the  bed-side — I  know  the  floor,  on  which 
I  have  been  prostrate  for  weeks  together,  crying,  I  cannot 
go  ;  I  am  a  novice  ;  I  shall  fall  into  the  condemnation  of  the 
devil.  Yet  I  wanted  to  be  at  Oxford.  I  wanted  to  stay  there 
three  or  four  years,  that  I  might  make  a  hundred  and  fifty  ser- 
mons at  least,  for  I  wished  to  set  up  with  a  stock  in  trade. 
I  remember  wrestling,  praying,  groaning,  striving  with  God  ; 
and  said,  I  am  undone,  unfit  to  speak  in  thy  name  ;  my  God, 
send  me  not.  After  I  had  written  to  all  my  friends,  to  pray 
against  the  bishop's  solicitation,  these  words  came  into  my 
mind, — '  My  sheep  hear  my  voice,  and  none  shall  pluck  them 
out  of  my  hand,' — then  I  said,  Lord,  I  will  go  ;  send  me  when 
thou  wilt." 

The  following  remarks  are  very  characteristic.  "'None 
shall  pluck  them  out  of  my  hand  : '  this  implies  that  there  is 
always  somebody  plucking  at  Christ's  sheep.  The  lust  of  the 
flesh  is  plucking  ;  the  pride  of  life  is  plucking  ;  and  the  devil 
is  continually  plucking  at  them  :  but  nothing  shall  pluck  them 
out  of  my  hands.  I  have  bought  them,  and  am  gone  to  hea- 
ven to  prepare  a  place  for  them."      Sermon. 

This  sermon  was  preached  at  the  Tabernacle  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  day  he  went  to  Gravesend  to  embark.  The  com- 
panions of  his  voyage  were  Smith  and  Cornelius  Winter. 
His  own  account  of  their  services  to  him  during  the  voyage 
is,  "  Mr.  Smith  hath  really  behaved  very  well,  and  been  handy 
and  attentive.  The  same  may  be  said  of  Mr.  Winter."  This 
he  said  at  the  end  of  the  voyage.     Whilst  on  board,  he  wrote 


whitefield's  life  and  times.         473 

to  a  friend,  concerning  them,  "  I  only  want  somebody  about 
me  that  hath  a  little  more  brains;  but  we  must  have  our  buts  in 
this  trying,  imperfect  state."  This,  I  have  no  doubt,  contains 
the  real  secret  of  Rowland  Hill's  mode  of  explaining  Winter's 
account  of  Whitefield's  temper  ;  as  "  the  version  of  a  worthy 
but  weak  man."  It  is  well  known  by  many,  that  Rowland 
Hill  empowered  me  to  contradict,  with  all  the  authority  of  his 
own  name,  Winter's  picture  of  Whitefield's  temper  ;  and  to 
explain  it  by  Winter's  want  of  brains.  I  have  done  neither, 
because  very  little  historical  importance  belongs  to  the  know- 
ledge of  either  party.  Both  knew  Whitefield  late  in  life,  and 
not  long,  and  only  after  his  nerves  were  shattered.  Wesley's 
opinion  is  of  more  value  than  that  of  both.  He  knew  him 
from  the  beginning,  and  said  at  the  end,  "  How  few  have  we 
known  of  so  kind  a.  temper  !  "  Funeral  Sermon.  Whitefield's 
temper  in  his  last  days  was  not  so  bland  as  Rowland  Hill 
thought,  nor  so  hasty  as  Cornelius  Winter  said.  The  former 
had,  therefore,  no  occasion  to  refer  the  picture  drawn  by  the 
latter,  to  mortification.  Winter  had  brains,  as  well  as  fine 
feelings,  whatever  might  have  been  the  development  of  them 
at  sea.  The  good  man  was  too  often  sick  there,  to  be  very 
clever  :  for  it  was  his  first  voyage ;  but  Whitefield's  thir- 
teenth :  a  fact  which  quite  explains  the  impatience  of  the  lat- 
ter, and  the  opinions  of  the  former. 

I  have  touched  this  contested  point,  because  more  has  been 
made  of  it,  on  both  sides,  than  was  at  all  necessary.  Neither 
Hill  nor  Winter  had  any  personal  acquaintance  with  White- 
field  until  1767 ;  and  he  died  1770.  This  fact  should  have 
moderated  the  opinions  of  both.  Wilberforce  said,  without 
knowing  this  fact,  "  Even  Winter's  account  detracts  little 
from  the  sum  of  Whitefield's  excellences."  Dr.  Reed's 
epithet  at  his  grave — "  that  seraphic  man .'"  will  for  ever  ab- 
sorb both  the  compliments  of  Hill  and  the  complaints  of  Win- 
ter ;  and  just  because  it  is  historically  true,  or  borne  out  by 
the  whole  tenor  of  his  life. 

These  dates  give,  however,  great  importance  to  Winter's 
account  of  Whitefield's  preaching  :  for  if  it  was  so  command- 
ing and  melting  during  the  few  years  he  heard  him,  what  must 
it  have  been  when  it  awed  Moorfields,  and  agitated  Black- 
heath,  whilst  they  were  thronged  with  tens  of  thousands  1 

I  feel  reluctant,  I  confess,  to  enter  upon  this  last  voyage, 
I  have  journeyed  so  long  in  vision  with  Whitefield,  and  so 
often  when  I  could  enjoy  little  else,  that  I  shrink  from  the 

40* 


474       whttefield's    life    and   times. 

near  prospect  of  parting  with  him.     Perhaps  my  readers  share 
this  feeling  with  me.     If  so,  they  will  not  regret  to  linger 
with  me,  whilst  he  was  detained  on  the  coast.     He  was  ac- 
companied to  Gravesend  by  "a  very  large  party,  in  coaches 
and  chaises  ;    and   next  day   preached  two  sermons  "  there. 
Not  in  the  church,  however,  as  formerly.     "That  was  refus- 
ed to  him."     Whiter.     This  fact  creates  in  my  mind  an  asso- 
ciation with  that  church,  which  is  any  thing  but  what  I  enjoy, 
when  I  visit  Gravesend.    This  is  not  my  fault  ;  nor  can  other 
visitors  be  blamed  if  they  feel  as  I  do.     True  ;    I  am  ihus 
teaching  visitors  to  recollect  the  pitiable  fact.     I  avow  the 
design.     This  is  one  way  of  bringing  into  discredit  the  worse 
than     synagogue    bigotry,    which    excludes    from     national 
churches  men  who  are  the  glory  of  the  nation.     Shame  upon 
the  folly  and  effrontery  which  can  shut  them  upon  stars  that 
Christ  is  not  ashamed  to  hold  in  his  "  right  hand  !  "    And 
equal  shame  upon  any  chapel,  if  such  there  be,  that  would  not 
welcome  an  evangelical  clergyman,  even  if  he  were  a  bishop 
or  an  archbishop,  into  its  pulpit,  and  at  its  communion  table ! 
The  tide  of  public  opinion  is  setting  in  to  this  point,  strongly 
and  directly  ;  and  I,  for  one,  both  go  with  it,  and  try  to  help 
it  on.     True  ;    many  are  trying  to  turn  it.     Well  ;    they  will 
only  strengthen  it.     The  tide  of  public  opinion  is  slow  upon 
ecclesiastical  channels ;    but  then  it  has  no  reflux,  except  to 
gather  strength.     It  can  afford  to  be  slow  ;    for  it  is  sure. 
Let  not  the  spirit  of  these  remarks  be  called  levelling :   it  is 
elevating,  if  there  be   no  arbitrary  nor  unnatural  distinctions 
in  the  church  of  the  first-born,  in  heaven.     Besides,  who  does 
not  see,  that  the  first  bishop  who  shall  preach  in  a  dissenting 
or  methodist  chapel,  or  preside  at  a  missionary  sacrament  in 
Zion  or  Surrey,  will  win  more  golden  opinions  for  his  church 
from  all  the  good  and  wise  in  the  world,  by  that  one  act  of 
duty,  than  by  a  thousand  acts  of  power  1    It  is  in  vain  now  to 
dream  of  uniting  the  three  kingdoms,  or  any  one  of  them,  in 
the  fellowship  of  one  church  :   but  all  Protestants  may  be  gra- 
dually united  in  the  fellowship  of  the   Spirit,  if  their  leaders 
will  only  set  the  example. 

A  specimen  of  this  catholicity  occurred  at  Deal,  whilst 
Whitefield's  vessel  was  detained  by  contrary  winds.  Dr. 
Gibbon  of  London,  and  Mr.  Bradbury  of  Bamsgate,  had 
come  there  to  ordain  a  student.  The  Doctor,  on  hearing  that 
Whitefield  was  in  the  bay,  went  on  board,  and  spent  a  day 
with  him.     Bradbury  and  the  young  minister  also  visited  him, 


WH1TEFIELD:S      LIFE     AND     TIMES.  475 

and  urged  him  to  be  present  at  the  ordination,  and  to  preach 
after  it.  He  did  both ;  and  as  we  have  seen,  with  great  de- 
light to  himself  and  others.  Winter,  who  accompanied  him, 
says,  "I  hope  1  shall  never  forget  the  solemnities  of  that 
day."  What  would  have  been  thought  of  Whitefield  had  he 
refused,  or  of  Gibbon  and  the  dissenters  had  they  not  invited 
him,  to  be  present  1  Just  so  is  thought  of  the  exclusives,  by 
the  thinkers  who  are  destined  to  pilot  the  church  of  Christ  out 
of  the  narrow  seas  of  party,  into  the  Pacific  of  catholic  com- 
munion. Whitefield  tells  an  anecdote  of  Dr.  Gibbon's 
"  warm-hearted  "  visit  to  him  on  board,  which  may  be  applied 
to  good  men  who  forget  this.  The  doctor  became  sea-sick, 
and  was  obliged  to  lie  down,  for  some  time,  in  the  state  ca- 
bin. "  There,"  says  Whitefield,  "  he  learned  more  experi- 
mentally to  pray  for  those  who  do  business  in  the  great  wa- 
ters." Like  many  others,  the  doctor  had  cared  less  for  sea- 
men than  he  ought :  but  sickness  made  him  sympathizing. 
So  it  is  in  this  matter :  something  is  always  occurring  in  the 
exclusive  system  to  sicken  good  men,  and  thus  to  teach  them 
to  pray  with  the  understanding  and  the  heart,  "  Thy  will  be 
done  on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven."  Whoever  regrets  the  fre- 
quency of  that  prayer  in  the  church  service,  I  do  not.  It  will 
pull  down  the  middle  wall  of  partition  soon :  and  it  is,  in  the 
meantime,  the  protest  of  the  church  (however  unconsciously) 
against  that  wall.  She  thus  denounces  at  the  font,  the  altar, 
and  the  grave,  her  own  bigotry. 

During  the  month  Whitefield  was  tossed  about  on  the  coast, 
he  preached  whenever  he  could  land,  and  paid  his  usual  at- 
tentions to  all  on  board.  The  voyage  was  both  long  and  dan- 
gerous ;  but  not  unpleasant.  He  arrived  at  Charleston  in 
such  health,  that  he  preached  on  the  very  day  he  landed. 
The  fact  is,  his  spirits  were  elevated  by  the  welcome  he  re- 
ceived, and  especially  by  the  good  news  which  awaited  him 
from  Georgia.  "  The  increase  of  the  colony  was  incredible, 
and  the  governor,  Wright,  had  laid  the  foundation  of  two 
wings  to  the  orphan-house,  for  the  accommodation  of  stu- 
dents." All  this  wound  up  his  hopes  and  spirits,  until  he  for- 
got that  he  was  in  the  body.  And  the  impulse  was  both  in- 
creased and  prolonged,  when  he  saw  Bethesda  in  its  glory. 
The  governor,  council,  and  assembly,  attended  in  a  body  at 
the  academy  chapel,  to  hear  him  preach  for  the  college. 
They  then  surveyed  and  approved  the  new  buildings  ;  each 
of  which  was  "  a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  long,  and  executed 


476       whitefield's    life    and   times. 

with  taste,  and  in  a  masterly  manner."  Afterwards  the  whole 
party  dined  with  him  in  the  hall  of  the  orphan-house,  "  at  a 
handsome  and  plentiful  table  ;"  and  testified  both  their  grati- 
tude and  satisfaction.  Nor  was  this  all.  The  commons' 
house  of  assembly  voted  the  warmest  thanks  to  him  for  his 
"truly  generous  and  disinterested  benefactions  to  the  pro- 
vince." Georgia  Gazette.  All  this  was  done,  after  a  ser- 
mon, in  which  he  avowed  that,  as  far  as  lay  in  his  power, 
"  Bethesda  should  always  be  upon  a  broad  bottom."  "All 
denominations  have  freely  given,"  he  said  ; — "  all  denomina- 
tions— all  the  continent  shall  receive  equal  benefit  from  it." 
Sermon. 

The  inspiring  effect  of  all  this  was,  that  his  health  was  bet- 
ter than  it  had  been  for  many  years,  and  his  strength  equal  to 
the  task  of  every-day  preaching.  His  moral  strength  was 
such,  that  he  "  annihilated  his  own  name  "  in  the  deed  of  set- 
tlement for  the  college,  that  trustees  might  accept  the  office 
of  wardens,  "  without  suffering  contempt  for  being  connected 
with  "  him  !  Thus  it  was  not  pretence,  nor  mere  exclamation, 
when  he  said,  years  before  this  time,  "  Let  the  name  of 
George  Whitefield  perish,  if  God  be  glorified."  As  I  have 
often  said,  he  only  spoke  strongly,  when  words  could  not  fully 
express  all  he  felt  and  meant.  But  his  name  will  be  impe- 
rishable, just  by  the  little  care  he  took  to  make  it  so :  for  he 
did  imperishable  work,  without  calculating  upon  any  lasting 
reward  in  this  world.  No  man,  indeed,  ever  understood  less, 
or  proved  more,  the  truth  of  the  sacred  oracle,  "  He  that 
loseth  his  life  for  my  sake  shall  save  it." 

Bethesda  was  now  to  him  "  a  Goshen-— a  Bethel."  He 
was  almost  tempted  to  say,  "  It  is  good  to  be  here  ; "  but  he 
said  instead,  "  No  nestling  on  this  side  eternity :  all  must 
give  way  to  that  divine  employ — gospel  ranging."  This  was 
his  resolution,  even  while  he  could  say,  "  Never  did  I  enjoy 
such  domestic  peace,  comfort,  and  joy  during  my  whole  pil- 
grimage. It  is  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory  !  "  Strong  as 
this  language  is,  he  used  still  stronger  on  leaving  the  institu- 
tion, although  fondly  and  fully  expecting  to  return  to  it :  "  O 
Bethesda,  my  Bethel,  my  Peniel !  My  happiness  is  inconceiv- 
able. Hallelujah,  Hallelujah!  Let  chapel — tabernacle — 
earth — heaven,  rebound  with  Hallelujah !  I  can  no  more. 
My  heart  is  too  big  than  to  add  more  than  my  old  name, 
4  Less  than  the  least  of  all,'  G.  W."     Letters. 

The  vigour  and  versatility  of  his  mind,  at  this  time,  may  be 


whitefield's  life   and  times.         477 

estimated  by  the  speech,  which  he  wrote  for  one  of  the 
orphans  to  deliver,  after  the  sermon  before  the  governor  and 
council.  I  venture  to  ascribe  the  authorship  of  it  to  White- 
field,  because  the  document  was  found  in  his  own  hand-writ- 
ing, by  Dr.  Gillies.  This  assumption  involves,  I  am  aware, 
the  awkward  fact,  that  he  paid  some  compliments  to  himself. 
But  the  speech  would  have  been  unnatural  and  unacceptable, 
if,  while  complimenting  the  patrons  of  the  institution,  it  had 
passed  by  the  founder.  Had  Whitcfield  not  made  the  orphan- 
boy  thank  him,  who  else  in  the  assembly  would  have  accept- 
ed public  thanks  1  It  is,  however,  for  its  beautiful  simplicity  I 
quote  the  document. 

The  Orphan's  Speech.  "  When  I  consider  where  I  stand, 
and  before  whom  I  am  about  to  speak,  no  wonder  that,  pre- 
vious to  my  rising,  a  trembling  seized  my  limbs  ;  and  now, 
when  risen,  a  throbbing  seizes  my  heart,  and,  as  a  conse- 
quence of  both,  shame  and  confusion  cover  my  face.  For 
what  am  I,  (a  poor  unlettered  orphan,  unlearned  almost  in  the 
very  rudiments  of  my  mother-tongue,  and  totally  unskilled  in 
the  persuasive  arts  of  speaking!)  that  I  should  be  called  to 
speak  before  such  a  venerable,  august  assembly,  as  is  this  day 
convened  under  Bethesda's  roof]  But  when  I  reflect,  that  I 
stand  up  at  your  command,  reverend  sir,  to  whom,  under 
God,  I  owe  my  little  all  ;  and  when  I  further  reflect  on  the 
well-known  candour  of  those  that  compose  this  venerable  and 
august  assembly, — my  trembling  begins  to  abate,  my  throb- 
bing ceases,  and  a  gleam  of  hope  breaks  in,  that  the  tongue 
of  the  stammerer  will  in  some  degree,  be  able  to  speak  plainly. 

"  But  where  shall  I  begin,  and  how  express  the  various 
emotions  that,  within  the  last  hour,  have  alternately  agitated 
and  affected  my  soul  ?  If  the  eye,  as  I  have  been  taught  to 
think,  is  the  looking-glass  of  the  soul  ;  and  if  the  outward 
gestures  and  earnest  attention,  are  indications  expressive  of 
the  inward  commotions  and  dispositions  of  the  human  heart ; 
then,  a  heartfelt  complacency  and  joy  hath  possessed  the  souls 
of  many  in  this  assembly,  whilst  the  reverend  founder  hath 
been  giving  from  the  pulpit  such  a  clear,  succinct,  and  yet 
withal  affecting  account  of  the  rise  and  progress  of  this 
orphan-house  academy,  and  of  the  low  estate  of  this  now 
flourishing  colony,  when  the  first  brick  of  this  edifice  was 
laid.  All  hail,  that  happy  day  !  which  we  now  commemorate, 
when  about  thirty-two  years  ago,  in  faith  and  fervent  prayer, 
the  first  brick  of  this  edifice  was  laid.  Many  destitute  orphans 


478      whitefield's    life    and    times. 

were  soon  taken  in,  and  without  any  visible  fund,  in  the  dear- 
est part  of  his  Majesty's  dominions,  more  than  fifty  labourers 
were  employed,  and  honourably  paid,  and  a  large  orphan- 
family,  for  these  many  years,  hath  been  supported,  clothed, 
and  brought  up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord. 
Oh,  could  these  walls  speak,  could  every  chamber,  every  cor- 
ner of  this  fabric  speak,  what  agonizing  supplications,  what 
inwrought,  energetic  prayers  would  they  tell  us  they  had  been 
witness  to,  and  also  of  the  blessed  fruits  of  which  we  are  now 
partakers  !  Behold  !  a  once  infant,  deserted,  despised  colony, 
not  only  lifting  up  its  drooping  head,  and,  in  some  degree, 
overtopping,  at  least  for  trade,  and  increase,  and  extent  of 
commerce,  vying  with  some  of  its  neighbouring  provinces. 
Behold  the  once  despised  institution  !  (the  very  existence  of 
which  was  for  many  years  denied,)  through  the  indefatigable 
industry,  unparalleled  disinterestedness,  and  unwearied  perse- 
verance of  its  reverend  founder,  expanding  and  stretching  its 
wings,  not  only  to  receive  a  larger  number  of  helpless  orphans 
like  myself,  but  to  nurse  and  cherish  many  of  the  present  ris- 
ing generation,  training  them  up  to  be  ornaments  both  in 
church  and  state.  For  ever  adored  be  that  Providence,  that 
power  and  goodness,  which  hath  brought  matters  to  such  a 
desirable  and  long-expected  issue  !  Thanks,  thanks  be  ren- 
dered to  your  Excellency,  for  the  countenance  you  have  al- 
ways given  to  this  beneficial  plan,  for  laying  the  first  brick  of 
yonder  wings,  this  time  twelvemonth,  and  for  the  favour  of 
your  company  on  this  our  anniversary.  Thanks  to  you,  Mr. 
President,  who  have  long  been  a  fellow-helper  in  this  impor- 
tant work,  and  have  now  the  pleasure  of  seeing  the  fruit  of 
all  your  labours.  Thanks  to  the  gentlemen  of  his  Majesty's 
honourable  council,  and  to  the  members  of  the  general  assem- 
bly, who  so  warmly  recommended  the  utility  of  this  institu- 
tion. Thanks  to  you,  sir,  who  first  opened  it  by  preaching. 
Thanks  to  you,  who  left  your  native  country,  and,  without 
fee  or  reward,  have  for  many  years  laboured  and  watched 
over  us  in  the  Lord.  Thanks  to  all  who  have  this  day  hon- 
oured us  with  your  presence.  And  above  all,  thanks,  more 
than  an  orphan  tongue  can  utter,  or  orphan  hearts  conceive, 
be,  under  God,  rendered  unto  you,  most  honoured  sir,  who 
have  been  so  happily  instrumental,  in  the  hands  of  a  never* 
failing  God,  in  spreading  his  everlasting  gospel." 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       479 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

WHITEFIELD      AND     THE      NOBILITY. 

WniTEFiELD  never  sought  the  patronage  of  the  great,  nor 
ever  employed  it  for  any  personal  end.  To  the  credit  of  his 
first  noble  friends,  Lothian,  Leven,  and  Rae,  they  sought  his 
friendship  because  they  admired  his  talents,  and  appreciated 
his  character.  They  were  won  by  the  preaching  which  won 
the  multitude ;  and  when  they  wrote  to  him,  he  answered 
them  just  as  he  did  any  one  else,  who  sought  his  counsel  or 
prayers,  courteously  and  faithfully.  He  paid  them,  indeed, 
the  current  compliments  of  his  times :  and  if  these  ever 
amount  to  flattery  in  appearance,  they  are  followed  by  warn- 
ings which  no  real  flatterer  would  have  dared  to  whisper.  In 
his  first  letters  to  the  Marquis  of  Lothian,  he  said,  "  You  do 
well,  my  lord,  to  fear,  lest  your  convictions  should  wear  off*. 
Your  lordship  is  in  a  dangerous  situation,"  in  the  world. 
44  Come,  then,  and  lay  yourself  at  the  feet  of  Jesus." — "  As 
for  praying  in  your  family,  I  entreat  you,  my  lord,  not  to  neg- 
lect it.  You  are  bound  to  do  it.  Apply  to  Christ  for  strength 
to  overcome  your  present  fears.  They  are  the  effects  of  pride, 
or  infidelity,  or  of  both."  These  are  not  unfair  specimens  of 
Whitefield's  correspondence  with  the  Scotch  nobles,  who  hon- 
oured him  with  their  confidence.  Upon  some  of  the  English 
noblemen,  who  were  brought  to  hear  him  by  Lady  Hunting- 
don, his  influence  was  equally  great  and  good. 

Amongst  his  friends  were,  also,  "  honourable  women  not  a 
few."  I  wish  I  could  say  of  his  compliments  to  them,  all  that 
I  have  said  of  his  general  influence  upon  their  "  order:  "  but 
I  cannot.  I  cannot  even  qualify,  after  long  rejudging,  the 
opinion  I  have  given  of  his  letters  to  them.  True,  they  need- 
ed and  deserved  "  strong  consolation,"  in  order  to  resist  the 
strong  temptations  presented  by  a  frivolous  court,  a  witty 
peerage,  and  a  learned  bench,  in  favour  of  a  formal  religion. 
Nothing  but  "  the  joy  of  the  Lord"  could  have  sustained  them 
in  such  a  sphere.  Whitefield  judged  well,  therefore,  in  not 
plying  the  peeresses  with  the  same  warnings  he  addressed  to 


480        whitefield's   life    vnd  times. 

the  peers.  Happiness  in  religion  was  the  best  security  for 
their  holiness.  They  could  not  be  laughed  out  of  a  good 
hope  through  grace.  Wit  and  hanter  may  make  the  fear  of 
perishing  seem  a  weakness  or  a  fancy  ;  but  they  cannot  make 
hope,  peace,  or  joy,  seem  absurd.  Neither  the  rough  gibes 
of  Warburton,  nor  the  polished  sarcasms  of  Chesterfield  and 
Bolingbroke,  co  dd  touch  the  consciousness  of  peace  in  be- 
lieving, or  of  enjoyment  in  secret  prayer,  in  the  hearts  of 
those  peeresses  who  had  found,  at  the  cross  and  the  mercy- 
seat,  the  happiness  they  had  sought  in  vain  from  the  world. 
Whitefield  knew  this,  and  ministered  to  their  comfort.  What 
I  regret,  therefore,  is,  that  he  mingled  more  compliment  with 
consolation  than  was  wise  or  seemly.  Each  of  "  the  twelve 
manner  "  of  ripe  fruits  on  the  tree  of  life,  requires  to  be  serv- 
ed up  in  its  own  "  leaves,"  and  needs  no  other  garnishing. 

But  if  Whitefield's  letters  to  the  peeresses  were  not  always 
manly,  his  lectures  to  the  "  brilliant  circle  "  at  Lady  Hunting- 
don's were  evidently  as  faithful  as  they  were  eloquent.  The 
well-known  Countess  of  Suffolk  found  them  so.  Lady  Guild- 
ford prevailed  on  Lady  Huntingdon  to  admit  this  beauty  to 
hear  Whitefield.  He,  however,  knew  nothing  of  her  pre- 
sence. He  drew  his  bow  at  a  venture  :  but  every  arrow 
seemed  aimed  at  her.  She  just  managed  to  sit  out  the  ser- 
vice, in  silence  ;  and  when  Whitefield  retired,  she  flew  into 
fury,  abused  Lady  Huntingdon  to  her  face,  and  denounced 
the  sermon  as  a  deliberate  attack  on  herself.  In  vain  Lady 
Betty  Jermain  tried  to  appease  the  beautiful  fury,  or  to  ex- 
plain her  mistake.  In  vain  old  Lady  Bertie  and  the  Duchess 
dowager  of  Ancaster  commanded  her  silence.  She  main- 
tained that  she  had  been  insulted.  She  was  compelled,  how- 
ever, by  her  relatives  who  were  present,  to  apologize  to  Lady 
Huntingdon.  Having  done  this  with  a  bad  grace,  she  left  to 
return  no  more. 

Horace  Walpole,  unwittingly,  has  borne  testimony  to  the 
faithfulness  of  Whitefield,  in  the  case  of  Earl  Ferrers.  "  That 
impertinent  fellow,"  Whitefield,  he  says,  "  told  his  enthu- 
siasts in  his  sermons,  that  my  lord's  heart  was  stone."  So 
it  was,  and  "  harder  than  the  netner  millstone."  He  treated 
Whitefield  courteously  ;  but  evinced  a  reckless  contempt  for 
religion.      Walpole's  own  account  of  Ferrers  proves  this. 

It  would  hardly  be  worth  while  to  notice  this  horrible  affair, 
were  it  not  for  the  sake  of  the  striking  contrast  between  White- 
field  and  Theophilus  Lindsay,  when  they  successively  tried  to 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       481 

comfort  Lady  Huntingdon  under  her  calamities.  Her  son 
had  imbibed  the  principles  of  Chesterfield  and  Bolingbroke ; 
and  her  heart  brooded  in  anguish  upon  his  eternal  prospects. 
The  Lindsays  suggested  to  her  the  possibility  of  a  temporary 
hell.  Whitefield  visited  and  prayed  for  her  wretched  nephew, 
Ferrers  ;  but  spoke  all  the  truth  of  his  character,  and  planted 
no  fictions  upon  his  grave. 

Horace  VValpole  again  unwittingly  bears  testimony  to  the 
uniform  consistency  of  Whitefield's  creed  and  character. 
When  the  peace  festival  was  celebrated  at  Ranelagh,  some 
one  asked  in  the  clique  of  wits,  (most  likely  himself,)  "Has 
Whitefield  recanted)  "  Lady  Townshend  replied,  "  O,  no  : 
he  has  only  canted."  Walpole  thought  this  a  happy  hit: — 
little  dreaming  it  to  be  a  compliment  to  a  man,  who  might 
have  had  preferment  at  the  time,  if  he  would  have  recanted 
even  his  clerical  irregularities.  This  is  the  original  play 
upon  the  words,  "  cant  "  and  "  recant ;  "  which  have  lately 
been  so  happily  applied  to  an  ex-patriot,  by  Lord  John 
Russel. 

The  following  anecdote  of  Whitefield  was  communicated 
by  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon  to  the  late  Barry,  R.  A.  ; 
and  sent  by  him  to  me.  I  give  it  in  his  own  words  : — "  Some 
ladies  called  one  Saturday  morning,  to  pay  a  visit  to  Lady 
Huntingdon,  and,  during  the  visit,  her  ladyship  inquired  of 
them  if  they  had  ever  heard  Mr.  Whitefield  preach  1  Upon 
being  answered  in  the  negative,  she  said,  '  I  wish  you  would 
hear  him,  he  is  to  preach  to-morrow  evening,'  at  such  a  church 
or  chapel,  the  name  of  which  the  writer  forgets,  nor  is  it 
material  : — they  promised  her  ladyship  they  would  certainly 
attend.  They  were  as  good  as  their  word  ;  and,  upon  calling 
on  the  Monday  morning  on  her  ladyship,  she  anxiously  inquir- 
ed if  they  had  heard  Mr.  Whitefield  on  the  previous  evening, 
and  how  they  liked  him? — The  reply  was,  '  0  my  lady,  of  all 
the  preachers  we  ever  heard,  he  is  the  most  strange  and 
unaccountable.  Among  other  preposterous  things,  (would 
your  ladyship  believe  it,)  he  declared  that  Jesus  Christ  was 
so  willing  to  receive  sinners,  that  he  did  not  object  to  receive 
even  the  devil's  castaioays. — Now,  my  lady,  did  you  ever 
hear  of  such  a  thing  since  you  was  born !  '  To  which  her 
ladyship  made  the  following  reply  : — '  There  is  something,  I 
acknowledge,  a  little  singular  in  the  invitation,  aud  I  do  not 
recollect  to  hive  ever  met  with  it  before  ;  but  as  Mr.  White- 
field  is  below  in  the  parlour,  we  '11  have  him  up,  and  let  him 

41 


482      whitefield's    life    and    times. 

answer  for  himself.'  Upon  his  coming  up  into  the  drawing- 
room,  Lady  Huntingdon  said,  '  Mr.  Whitefield,  these  ladies 
have  been  preferring  a  very  heavy  charge  against  you,  and  I 
thought  it  best  that  you  should  come  up  and  defend  yourself: 
— they  say,  that,  in  your  sermon  last  evening,  in  speaking 
of  the  willingness  of  Jesus  Christ  to  receive  sinners,  you  ex- 
pressed yourself  in  the  following  terms  : — that  so  ready  was 
Christ  to  receive  sinners  who  came  to  him,  that  he  was  willing 
to  receive  even  the  devil's  castaways  ! ' — Mr.  Whitefield  im- 
mediately replied,  '  I  certainly,  my  lady,  must  plead  guilty  to 
the  charge  :  whether  1  did  what  was  right  or  otherwise,  your 
ladyship  shall  judge  from  the  following  circumstance. — Did 
your  ladyship  notice,  about  half  an  hour  ago,  a  very  modest 
single  rap  at  the  door  1  It  was  given  by  a  poor,  miserable- 
looking,  aged  female,  who  requested  to  speak  with  me. — I 
desired  her  to  be  shown  into  the  parlour,  when  she  accosted 
me  in  the  following  manner  : — '  I  believe,  sir,  you  preached 
last  evening,  at  such  a  chapel.' — 'Yes,  I  did. ' — *  Ah,  sir  !  I 
was  accidentally  passing  the  door  of  that  chapel,  and  hearing 
the  voice  of  some  one  preaching,  I  did  what  I  have  never 
been  in  the  habit  of  doing,  I  went  in  : — and  one  of  the  first 
things  I  heard  you  say,  was,  that  Jesus  Christ  was  so  willing 
to  receive  sinners,  that  he  did  not  object  to  receiving  the  de- 
vil's castaways.  Now,  sir,  I  have  been  on  the  town  for  many 
years,  and  am  so  worn  out  in  his  service,  that  I  think  I  may  with 
truth,  be  called  one  of  the  devil's  castaways  1 — Do  you  think, 
sir,  that  Jesus  Christ  would  receive  me  l ' — Mr.  Whitefield 
assured  her  there  was  not  a  doubt  of  it,  if  she  was  but  willing 
to  go  to  him.  From  the  sequel  it  appeared  that  it  was  the 
case  ;  and  that  it  ended  in  the  sound  conversion  of  this  poor 
creature ;  and  Lady  Huntingdon  was  assured,  from  most 
respectable  authority,  that  the  woman  left  a  very  charming 
testimony  behind  her,  that  though  her  sins  had  been  of  a  crim- 
son hue,  the  atoning  blood  of  Christ  had  washed  them  white 
as  snow." 

I  shall  not  soon  forget  the  first  use  I  made  of  this  anecdote. 
It  was  handed  to  me  just  as  1  was  about  to  attend  the  anni- 
versary of  the  Female  Penitentiary.  I  told  it  there,  and  was 
pleased,  although  in  nowise  surprised,  to  see  tears  flowing 
down  the  cheeks  of  the  noble  chairman,  and  of  honourable 
women,  not  a  few.  I  mention  this  fact,  because  it  is  only 
by  such  facts,  that  some  minds  can  be  won  over  to  think  well 
of  Penitentiaries.     I    long   questioned   their  policy.     Even 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         483 

when  I  became  one  of  the  secretaries  of  the  Liverpool  Fe- 
male Penitentiary,  I  was  not  sure  that  I  was  doing  right.  But 
I  soon  knew  better,  when  the  correspondence  of  the  institu- 
tion with  parents  came  before  me.  Indeed,  I  owe  to  the 
converts  in  that  house  of  mercy,  and  especially  to  the  late 
Betsy  Kenyon,  the  relief  of  my  own  mind  from  the  haunting 
suspicion,  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  forget,  even  in 
heaven,  what  certain  brands  plucked  from  the  burning  had 
been.  I  found  it  impossible,  however,  to  remember,  even  on 
earth,  what  that  wonderful  miracle  of  grace,  and  martyr  of 
suffering  had  been,  although  I  knew  well  her  former  horrible 
history.  Then  understood  I  the  promise, — "  They  shall 
be  as  though  God  had  not  cast  them  off."  Saints  and 
angels  will  so  resemble  each  other  in  the  beauty  of  holi- 
ness, that  there  will  be  nothing  to  distinguish  them,  but  the 
difference  of  their  new  song.  I  express,  I  am  quite  sure,  the 
cherished  recollections  of  many  of  the  greatest  and  best  in  the 
land,  in  thus  recording  the  hallowing  influence  of  Betsy  Ken- 
yon's  character  and  spirit.  Her  "  wings  were  covered  with 
silver,  and  her  feathers  with  yellow  gold."  There  ought  to 
be,  in  every  large  town,  a  female  mission,  to  seek  out  and 
bring  home  the  outcasts. 

"  .1  female  mission  !  "  Yes  ; — the  church  of  Christ  flou- 
rished most  when  women  "  laboured  "  with  Paul  "  in  the 
gospel,"  Phil.  iv.  3.  He  did  not,  indeed,  suffer  them  to  speak 
in  the  church  ;  but  he  both  employed  them  to  speak  out  of 
it,  and  applauded  their  co-operation  in  spreading  the  gos- 
pel. He  has  emblazoned  their  names,  equally  with  Clement's, 
"  in  the  book  of  life,"  and  in  the  New  Testament.  The  other 
apostles  also,  and  all  the  primitive  churches,  gratefully  accept- 
ed and  acknowledged  female  agency.  That  agency  was  pro- 
longed in  the  Western  church  until  the  eleventh,  and  in  the 
Eastern  until  the  end  of  the  twelfth  century.  The  form  of 
prayer  used  at  the  ordination  of  the  deaconness  is  preserved 
in  the  "  Apostolic  Constitutions." 

Are  we  wiser  or  stronger  than  the  wise  and  apostolic 
master-builders  of  the  church,  that  we  can  evangelize  the 
world,  without  the  co-operation  which  apostles  welcomed,  and 
martyrs  honoured,  and  the  fathers  immortalized  ?  (See  Clem. 
Alexand.  and  TertuUian  de  Virginn.)  True,  ministers  and 
missionaries  have  freer  and  fuller  access  now  to  all  classes, 
than  the  apostles  and  evangelists.  Neither  the  jealousies 
nor  the  restraints  of  the  East  exist  in  the  West.     What  then  1 


484         whitefield's   life   and   times. 

Alas  !  with  all  our  superior  facilities,  the  gospel  is  not  brought 
home  to  all  classes  !  There  are  even  hinderances  to  the 
spread  of  it  in  the  metropolis,  which  no  man  can  surmount. 
Thousands,  yea,  tens  of  thousands  of  females,  in  London, 
must  perish  for  lack  of  knowledge,  unless  the  agency  of 
■widows  be  employed  to  pluck  the  brands  from  the  burning  ! 
To  this  extent  they  have  been  perishing,  and  involving,  to  a 
still  greater  extent,  the  ruin  of  young  men,  for  ages.  No 
ministry  yet  has  penetrated  the  haunts  of  female  vice,  or  the 
hovels  of  female  ignorance.  No  regular  ministry  can  reach 
them  effectually.  Even  Whitefield  and  AVesley  could  only 
skirt  their  borders.  Public  opinion  would  not  sanction  any 
man  to  go  further  at  present.  It  would  snatch  the  cloak  of 
character  from  him,  even  if  he  kept  his  innocence  like  Joseph. 
His  good  would  be  evil  spoken  of,  were  he  as  pure  and  pru- 
dent as  an  angel.  Ministers  cannot  do  nor  dare  all  that  their 
Master  did.  He  could  pass,  like  light,  uncontaminated 
through  any  medium.  He  could  defy  public  opinion,  or  over- 
power it,  by  miracles,  whenever  it  was  shocked  at  his  conde- 
scension to  "  a  woman  that  was  a  sinner  !  "  No  Christian 
man  can  run  such  risks  with  safety.  Only  Christian  widows 
can  "  follow  the  Lamb  fully  in  the  regeneration  of  life,"  in 
this  region  of  the  shadow  of  death  : — and  they  can  follow 
Him,  with  equal  safety  and  success.  The  apostles  of  the 
Lamb  knew  this, and  employed  them.  The  apostolic  churches 
knew  this,  and  made  deaconesses  of  many  of  their  holy 
widows.  And  Priscilla,  too,  as  well  as  her  husband,  was 
thanked  by  Paul  in  the  name  of"  all  the  churches  of  the  gen- 
tiles," for  her  services. 

This  is  not  the  place  to  reason  this  question  in.  I  must, 
however,  remind  the  churches  of  Britain  and  America,  that 
they  have  in  the  widowhood  of  their  fellowship  a  sisterhood 
which  can  be  safely  and  efficiently  employed  in  this  work.  It 
would  also  help  many  who  are  "  widows  indeed,"  as  well  as 
save  souls  from  death. 

It  will  be  seen  from  the  anecdote  which  led  to  these  re- 
marks, that  Whitefield  was  not  ashamed  or  slow  to  avow, 
before  any  rank,  that  his  commission  extended  to  the  chief  of 
sinners.  And  it  is  to  the  credit  of  Lady  Huntingdon  and  her 
pious  friends,  that  they  were  not  ashamed  of  the  gospel  in 
this  form.  They  rejoiced  in  some  conversions, — particu- 
larly that  of  Colonel  Gumley, — which  astonished  Doddridge 
as  much  as  the  conversion  of  Colonel  Gardiner.     No  won- 


whitefield's  life   and   times.  485 

der,  therefore,  if  Horace  Walpole  wondered,  when  "  Gumley 
became  a  Methodist."  The  wit  was  at  his  "  wit's  end  ;  " 
and  could  only  explain  the  phenomenon  by  ascribing  to 
Whitefield  the  fascinations  of  Garrick.  Even  Chesterfield 
wondered,  and  offered  his  chapel  at  Bretby  Hall,  in  Derby- 
shire, to  such  ministers  as  Lady  Huntingdon  might  introduce 
to  it.  She  soon  introduced  Whitefield  to  Bretby;  and  he 
soon  rendered  the  Hall  chapel  too  small.  Bretby  park  had 
to  accommodate  the  audience.  Whitefield  was  followed  by 
Romaine,  who  was  not  a  field  preacher.  The  crowd  had, 
therefore,  to  catch  what  they  could  hear  in  the  court  of  the 
hall,  whilst  he  spoke  only  from  the  pulpit.  Both  preachers 
were,  however,  made  very  useful  on  this  occasion.  Ro- 
maine himself  says  of  it,  "  We  had  a  most  refreshing  time; 
fifteen  pulpits  open;  showers  of  grace  came  down;  sinners 
in  great  numbers  were  awakened,  and  believers  comforted." 
Letters. 

These  fifteen  pulpits  were  not  open  to  Whitefield.  He 
was  too  irregular  for  the  Derbyshire  clergy.  He  had,  how- 
ever, roused  their  people  so,  that  it  became  good  policy  to 
admit  Romaine.  There  was  also  a  better  reason.  It  was 
a  new  thing  to  find  Chesterfield  patronizing  religion ;  and 
therefore  wise  to  make  the  most  of  his  sanction  whilst  he  was 
in  the  humour.  Romaine  also  did  well,  in  continuing  regu- 
lar. But  for  that,  he  would  have  been  less  useful.  It  en- 
abled him  to  introduce  the  gospel  into  churches,  where  there 
was  no  leaven  in  the  whole  lump.  Even  in  Derby  he  found 
his  way  into  "  the  great  church,"  although  "  the  mayor,  and 
the  churchwardens,  and  the  Arian  "  clergy  opposed  him. 

Soon  after  this,  Lady  Huntingdon  summoned  Whitefield 
and  Romaine  to  preach  at  the  opening  of  her  chapel  in  Bath. 
Whitefield  complied,  of  course,  but  Romaine  pleaded  off. 
Not,  however,  from  any  reluctance  to  preach  with  his  friend. 
I  say  deliberately — his  friend.  Romaine  gloried  in  the  friend- 
ship of  Whitefield,  and  cheerfully  followed  him  in  the  chapels 
of  the  countess.  It  was  the  claim  of  Brighton  he  pleaded 
against  Bath.  "  Why  should  Bath  have  all,  and  poor  Brigh- 
ton none  ?  I  am  at  your  command  to  go  or  stay."  The 
fact  is,  her  ladyship  had  invited  all  her  chief  clerical  friends 
to  the  dedication ;  and  Romaine  thought  that  he  might  well 
be  excused,  especially  as  he  was  then  labouring  with  great 
success  at  Brighton.  The  chapel  was  opened,  therefore,  by 
Whitefield  and  the  rector  of  Pewsey.  the  son  of  the  celebrated 

41* 


486        whitefield' s   life   and   times. 

Alderman  Townsend  of  London.     They  were  soon  succeed- 
ed by  Madan  and  Homaine. 

These  services  produced  a  great  sensation  at  Bath.  The 
chapel  itself  was  attractive.  Even  Horace  Walpole  said  of 
it,  "  It  is  very  neat,  with  true  gothic  windows.  I  was  glad 
to  see  that  luxury  is  creeping  on  them  before  persecution. 
They  have  boys  and  girls  with  charming  voices,  that  sing 
hymns  in  parts.  At  the  upper  end  is  a  broad  hautpas  of  four 
steps,  advancing  in  the  middle.  At  each  end  of  the  broadest 
part  are  two  eagles,  with  red  cushions  for  the  parson  and 
clerk.  Behind  them  rise  three  more  steps,  in  the  midst  of 
which  is  a  third  eagle  for  a  pulpit.  Scarlet  arm-chairs  to  all 
three.  On  either  hand  a  balcony  for  elect  ladies."  Walpolc's 
Letters. 

There  was  something  else  which  Walpole  did  not  know 
of; — a  seat  for  bishops.  It  was  often  occupied  too  !  The 
witty  and  eccentric  Lady  Betty  Cobbe,  the  daughter-in-law  of 
the  archbishop  of  Dublin,  called  this  curtained  seat  "  The 
Nicodemite  corner."  She  delighted  in  smuggling  in  bishops, 
to  see  and  hear  the  Methodists,  unseen.  Dr.  Barnard,  the 
bishop  of  Derry,  went  thus  often.  It  was  he  who  ordained 
Maxfield  to  help  Wesley,  that  that  "  good  man  might  not  work 
himself  to  death." 

Of  this  chapel  Whitefield  says,  "  It  is  a  beautiful  original ; 
extremely  plain,  and  equally  grand."  "  Dear  Mr.  Romaine 
hath  been  much  owned  in  "  it.  In  1766,  he  and  Romaine 
preached  in  it  alternately,  to  splendid  audiences.  Amongst 
others  who  heard  them  with  profit,  was  Lady  Glenorchy 
— the  Selina  of  Scotland  ;  for  Lady  Huntingdon  was  her  mo- 
del, although  her  biographer  seems  to  have  forgotten  the  fact. 
She  derived  great  spiritual  benefit,  and  caught  her  inspiration 
in  the  cause  of  God  from  the  example  and  the  chaplains  of 
the  countess.  It  was  through  her,  also,  that  Lord  and  Lady 
Sutherland  were  introduced  into  this  circle,  when  they  fled 
from  the  grave  of  their  eldest  daughter,  to  seek  relief  in  the 
amusements  of  Bath.  They  were  led,  however,  to  hear 
Whitefield,  and  continued  to  do  so,  until  their  untimely  death. 
They  were  in  the  prime  of  life;  and  their  funeral  sermon  at 
the  chapel  drew  out  all  the  nobility,  and  produced  a  deep  im- 
pression. The  Duchess  dowager  of  Sutherland,  if  alive  still, 
knows  that  Whitefield  ministered  to  her  suffering  parents, 
when  she  was  an  unconscious  infant.  A  remarkable  circum- 
stance aggravated  this  bereavement  to  the  family.    The  death 


whitefield' s  life    and  times.         48? 

of  Lady  Sutherland  had  been  concealed  from  her  mother,  and 
only  that  of  Lord  Sutherland  communicated.  Lady  Alva 
hastened  from  the  north  to  Bath,  to  be  with  her  daughter. 
She  met  by  the  way  two  hearses,  and  learned  that  they  were 
carrying  Lord  and  Lady  Sutherland  to  be  interred  in  the 
royal  chapel  at  Holyrood.     Evan.  Reg. 

Another  impressive  scene  took  place  at  Bath,  on  the  death 
of  the  Karl  of  Buchan.  "  He  died,"  says  Whitefield,  "  like 
the  patriarch  Jacob.  He  laid  his  hands  on,  and  blessed  his 
children ;  assured  them  of  his  personal  interest  in  Jesus  ; 
called  most  gloriously  on  the  Holy  Ghost;  cried,  'Happy, 
happi/J  as  long  as  he  could  speak."  The  coffin  was  remov- 
ed from  Buchan  House  to  the  chapel,  where  it  lay  a  week. 
Whitefield  preached  twice  a  day,  and  all  the  family,  besides 
the  other  rank  in  the  city,  attended.  The  scene  must  have 
been  solemn  at  the  funeral  service.  In  the  morning  the 
family  attended  an  "  early  sacrament,  and  seated  themselves 
at  the  feet  of  the  corpse,"  whilst  communicating.  This  was 
followed  by  a  special  address  to  them,  and  closed  by  the  sub- 
lime benediction,  "  The  Lord  bless  you  and  keep  you  ;  the 
Lord  lift  up  the  light  of  his  countenance  upon  you;  the  Lord 
cause  his  face  to  shine  upon  you,  and  give  you  peace."  They 
then  retired  to  Lady  Huntingdon's  house,  until  eleven  o'clock, 
when  the  public  service  began.  The  chapel  was  "  more  than 
crowded."  •*  Nearly  three  hundred  tickets,  signed  by  the 
young  earl,  were  given  out  to  the  nobility  and  gentry.  All 
was  hushed  and  solemn.  Attention  sat  on  every  face,  and 
deep  and  almost  universal  impressions  were  made,"  whilst 
Whitefield  preached  the  funeral  sermon.  "  The  like  scene, 
and,  if  possible,  more  solemn,  was  exhibited  in  the  evening," 
and  repeated  during  five  days.  He  says  of  it,  "  A  like  I 
never  expect  to  see  on  this  side  eternity!  Surely  the  death 
of  this  noble  earl,  thus  improved,  will  prove  the  life  of  many." 
It  did.  Amongst  others  who  publicly  avowed  themselves, 
was  the  young  earl.  This  drew  upon  him  the  laugh  and  lash 
of  all  the  wits  and  witlings  of  the  rooms  ;  but  he  "  stood  im- 
pregnable as  a  rock." 

These  were  not  the  first  fruits  of  Whitefield's  ministry  at 
Bath  amongst  the  great.  He  had  often  preached  to  them  at 
the  residence  of  Lady  Gertrude  Hotham,  the  sister  of  Ches- 
terfield. She  was  one  of  his  first  converts,  when  he  began  to 
preach  at  Lady  Huntingdon's  in  London ;  and  her  own  eldest 
daughter  was  amongst  the  first  of  them  at  Bath.  Miss  Hotham 


488         whitefield's   life    and   times. 

died  early,  but  happy.  There  is,  in  the  second  volume  of 
Whitefield's  Letters,  a  beautiful  narrative  of  his  last  interview 
with  her.  He  wanted  her  not  to  sit  up  in  bed,  whilst  he  pray- 
ed with  her,  because  she  was  very  weak.  "I  can  rise  to  take 
my  physic,"  she  said  ; — "  shall  I  not  rise  to  pray  1  "  The 
letter  is  addressed  to  the  Countess  of  Moira,  the  eldest 
daughter  of  Lady  Huntingdon  ;  of  whom  Horace  Walpole 
says,  "  The  queen  of  the  Methodists  got  her  daughter  named 
lady  of  the  bedchamber  to  the  princesses  ;  but  it  is  all  off 
again,  because  she  will  not  let  her  play  cards  on  Sunday." 

The  Countess  Delitz,  one  of  the  daughters  of  the  Duchess 
of  Kendal,  and  the  sister  of  Lady  Chesterfield,  was  another 
gem  in  Whitefield's  crown,  whom  he  prized  highly.  She  had 
much  influence  upon  her  nephew,  Sir  Charles  Hotham,  when 
his  accomplished  wife  died  suddenly.  He  had  often  heard 
Whitefield  at  his  mother's  house  in  Bath,  and  had  not  drunk 
the  poison  of  his  uncle  Chesterfield  :  but  he  was  not  a  decid- 
ed character,  until  he  was  made  a  lonely  widower.  From 
that  time,  he  defied  all  the  sneers  of  the  court,  and  dared  "  to 
be  singularly  good."  He  had  also  some  good  influence  upon 
the  young  Earl  of  Huntingdon,  for  a  time.  He  was  made 
groom  of  the  bedchamber  to  George  III. ;  but  he  never  recov- 
ered the  shock  of  his  wife's  death.  He  soon  relinquished  his 
office,  and  died.  This  was  a  severe  blow  to  his  mother, 
Lady  Gertrude  ;  now  old  and  lonely.  It  led  to  her  own 
death,  in  a  painful  manner.  She  had  been  absorbed  whilst 
reading  at  night,  and  the  candles  set  fire  to  her  head-dress. 
It  spread  rapidly  to  her  neck  and  breast.  The  wounds  were 
so  many,  that  it  required  an  hour  and  a  half  every  day  to  dress 
them.  Her  composure  astonished  Adair  the  surgeon.  He 
used  to  tell  her,  "  that  she  deserved  heaven."  This  alone 
discomposed  her.  She  replied,  with  holy  indignation,  that 
there  was  no  merit  but  in  Christ  ;  and  told  Adair,  that  if 
either  of  them  "  escaped  eternal  death,"  it  must  be  through 
the  blood  and  righteousness  of  the  Lamb  of  God.  This  ac- 
count of  her  death-bed  was  given  by  her  friend,  the  late  Lady 
Maxwell  of  Edinburgh. 

Such  were  Whitefield's  trophies  in  the  Chesterfield  family. 
He  won  souls  in  it,  upon  the  right  hand  and  the  left  of  the 
earl ;  thus  leaving  him  no  excuse  for  making  the  exchange  of 
worlds  "a  leap  in  the  dark."  His  countess  made  a  better 
choice.  Lady  Chesterfield  was  a  natural  child  of  George  I. 
For  years  she  was  a  leading  star  at  court,  and  in  all  the  spheres 


whitefield's   life  and   times.         489 

of  folly.  Great,  therefore,  was  their  consternation,  when  they 
saw  her,  after  hearing  VVhitelield,  lay  all  her  honours  and  in- 
fluence at  the  foot  of  the  cross.  Even  the  king  forgot  royal 
decorum  so  far  as  to  laugh  aloud  in  her  face,  at  the  simplicity 
of  her  dress.  There  was  nothing  to  laugh  at  in  it,  but  the 
chasteness  of  its  beauty.  Chesterfield  himself  had  bought  it 
at  great  expense  on  the  continent ;  and  the  earl  had  certainly 
quite  as  much  taste  as  the  king. 

Pulteney,  also,  the  Earl  of  Bath,  and  the  well  known  poli- 
tical antagonist  of  Sir  Robert  Walpole,  was  deeply  impressed 
under  Whitefield's  ministry,  at  the  same  time  as  tbe  Countess 
of  Chesterfield.  He  attended  Tottenham  Court  chapel  regu- 
larly for  some  years,  and  was  a  munificent  benefactor  to  the 
orphan-house.  Both  Lady  Huntingdon  and  Lady  Fanny 
Shirley  were  his  intimate  friends.  Whatever,  therefore,  may 
be  thought  of  his  political  character,  he  must  have  been  rather 
more  than  moral,  to  have  secured  their  esteem.  But  amongst 
the  peers,  none  stood  higher  in  Whitefield's  estimation,  for 
piety  or  prudence,  than  Lord  Dartmouth.  George  III.  con- 
firmed this  estimate  of  Dartmouth's  character.  Queen  Char- 
lotte also  thought  him  "one  of  the  best  of  men."  The  king 
said  to  Dr.  Beattie,  the  essayist  on  Truth,  "  They  call  his 
lordship  an  enthusiast ;  but  surely  he  says  nothing  on  the  sub- 
ject of  religion  but  what  any  Christian  may  and  ought  to  say." 
John  Newton  thought  so.  Dartmouth  was  his  patron  :  and 
to  him  he  addressed  the  first  twenty-six  letters  of  the  "  Car- 
diphonia.'"  It  was  a  fit  return.  Newton  had  been  refused 
ordination  by  the  Archbishop  of  York  :  (not  a  very  arch  refu- 
sal certainly!)  and  Dartmouth  prevailed  on  Dr.  Green,  the 
Bishop  of  Lincoln,  to  ordain  him  ;  and  then  gave  him  the  cu- 
racy of  Olney.  How  much  the  church  of  Christ  owes  to  this 
act  of  kindness  !  Newton's  early  association  with  the  dissen- 
ters, and  his  Methodism,  would  have  shut  him  out  of  the 
church  :  for  it  was  well  known,  that  Brewer  of  Stepney  re- 
commended him  to  the  dissenters  of  Warwick,  on  the  re- 
moval of  Ryland,  as  a  probationer.  He  preached  also  in 
Yorkshire  amongst  the  dissenters.  This  accounts  for  the 
archbishop's  refusal.  Newton  forgot  as  well  as  forgave  him  ; 
but  he  never  forgot  or  concealed  his  connexion  with  Warwick. 
Long  after  his  settlement  at  Olney,  he  often  said,  "  The  very 
name  of  Warwick  makes  my  heart  leap  with  joy.  There  my 
mouth  was  first  opened.  There  I  met  some  sweet  encourage- 
ment on  my  entrance  into  the  ministry."     Thus  he  loved  the 


400        whitefield's   life   and  times. 

people,  although  he  had  been  an  unsuccessful  candidate.  It 
is  well  he  was  so  !  He  would  have  been  lost  amongst  the  dis- 
senters. 1  mean,  of  course,  that  his  preaching  talents  would 
have  given  him  no  distinction  amongst  them.  Even  h\s  pen 
they  did  not  want.  They  welcomed  his  writings,  as  they  do 
every  thing  which  is  spiritual,  in  common  with  all  the  friends 
of  truth  and  godliness  ;  but  they  needed  them  not  for  them- 
selves. They  read  and  praised  them,  that  the  church  might 
profit  by  them.  This  is  not  the  case  now.  Newton  is  read 
by  them  for  their  own  edification  also,  and  because  he  was 
eminently  useful  in  the  church.  Then,  they  read  him  that  he 
might  be  useful,  and  because  there  were  few  Newtons  in  the 
church,  and  still  fewer  Dartmouths  or  Thorntons  to  patronize 
them. 

I  have  already  mentioned  Dartmouth's  patronage  of  the 
college  for  the  American  Indians.  It  is  not  so  generally 
known,  that  he  was  one  of  the  chief  patrons  of  evangelical 
preaching  at  the  Lock  chapel  in  London.  He  and  Baron 
Smythe  gave  the  full  weight  of  their  rank  and  influence  to 
that  "  hill  of  Zion,"  on  which  the  dew  of  heaven  has  so  often 
and  long  descended.  That  influence  was  not  small.  Dart- 
mouth stood  high  at  court ;  and  Smythe,  besides  being  the 
son  of  Leicester's  eldest  daughter,  was  Lord  Chief  Baron  of 
the  Exchequer.  Both  were  the  particular  friends  of  Venn 
also.  The  latter  gave  him  the  living  of  Yelling,  in  Hunting- 
donshire ;  and  Lady  Smythe  bequeathed  to  his  son  the  ad» 
vowson  of  Bidborough,  in  Kent. 

It  was  thus  Lady  Huntingdon  and  Whitefield,  leading  each 
other  alternately,  and  always  acting  together,  drew  out  and 
brought  into  notice  the  little,  but  faithful,  band  of  clergymen, 
who  became  the  salt  of  the  church  of  England.  Yes  ;  they 
found  out  and  brought  forward  these  good  men,  and  won  for 
them  the  patronage  which  enabled  them  to  do  good,  as  well 
as  created  for  them  the  element  in  which  they  lived,  moved, 
and  had  their  being.  They  were,  indeed,  "  independent  stu- 
dents of  the  word  of  God  ;  "  but  Methodism  made  them  so. 
This  fact  is  disputed.  It  cannot,  however,  be  disproved. 
Why  then  should  it  be  called  in  question  1  It  is  as  impossible 
to  separate  the  improvement  of  the  church  from  the  direct  in- 
fluence of  Whitefield  and  Wesley,  as  to  separate  her  corrup- 
tions from  the  name  of  Laud. 


whitefield's   life  and  times.  491 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

whitefield's    last    itineracy. 

Whilst  Whitefield  was  rejoicing  over  Georgia,  applica- 
tions were  pouring  in  upon  him  from  all  quarters,  to  hasten 
again  to  the  cities  and  wildernesses  of  America.  He  hardly 
knew  which  call  was  loudest,  or  "  which  way  to  turn  "  him- 
self. He  went,  however,  first  to  Philadelphia,  after  having 
preached  the  gospel  fully  in  Savannah.  On  his  arrival  he 
found,  he  says,  "pulpits,  hearts,  affections  as  open  and  en- 
larged as  ever"  towards  him.  Philadelphia  could  not  have 
given  him  a  more  cordial  welcome,  had  she  even  foreseen 
that  she  was  to  see  his  face  no  more  :  for  all  the  churches  as 
well  as  the  chapels  were  willingly  opened  to  him,  and  all  ranks 
vied  in  flocking  to  hear  him.  This  free  access  to  the  episco- 
pal churches  delighted  him  much,  wherever  it  occurrred.  He 
never  fails  to  record  both  his  gratitude  and  gratification,  when 
he  obtains,  on  any  tour,  access  even  to  one  church.  It  al- 
ways did  him  good  too.  I  have  often  been  struck  with  this, 
whilst  tracing  his  steps.  True  ;  he  was  at  home  wherever 
there  were  souls  around  him  ;  but  he  was  most  at  home  in  a 
church,  except,  indeed,  when  he  had  a  mountain  for  his  pul- 
pit, and  the  heavens  for  his  sounding-board,  and  half  a  county 
for  his  congregation.  Then,  neither  St.  Paul's  nor  Westmin- 
ster had  any  attractions  for  him.  The  fact  is,  Whitefield 
both  admired  and  loved  the  liturgy.  He  had  the  spirit  of  its 
compilers  and  of  its  best  prayers  in  his  own  bosom,  and  there- 
fore it  was  no  form  to  him.  It  had  been  the  channel  upon 
which  the  first  mighty  spring-tides  of  his  devotion  flowed,  and 
the  chief  medium  of  his  communion  with  heaven,  when  he  was 
most  successful  at  Tottenham  Court  and  Bath.  All  his  great 
"  days  of  the  Son  of  Man "  there,  were  associated  with  the 
church  service.  He  was,  therefore,  most  in  his  element  with 
it ;  although  he  was  often  equally  and  more  successful  with- 
out it.  Accordingly,  it  would  be  difficult  to  say,  whether  the 
gospel  triumphed  most,  at  this  time,  in  the  churches  or  the 


402  whitefield's    life    and    times. 

chapels  of  Philadelphia.  His  prayers  for  the  outpouring  of 
the  Holv  Spirit  went,  in  an  equally  "direct  line,  to  heaven," 
and  were  equally  answered,  whether  with  or  without  book. 

He  was  now  in  such  good  health  and  spirits,  that  he 
preached  twice'every  Sabbath,  and  three  orfour  times  a  week, 
although  the  heat  was  setting  in.  During  an  excursion  of  a 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  in  the  province,  also,  he  was  able  to 
preach  every  day,  and  to  "  bear  up  bravely."  Indeed,  he 
was  so  much  "  better  than  he  had  been  for  many  years," 
that  he  indulged  the  hope  of  returning  to  Bethesda  in  the  au- 
tumn, and  of  sailing  to  England  again.! 

In  this  state  of  mind  and  body  he  arrived  at  New-1  ork, 
and  found  not  only  "  congregations  larger  than  ever,"  but 
also  such  a  host  of  invitations  from  all  quarters,  that  he  sent 
the  bundle  to  England  as  a  curiosity.  These  numerous  and 
loud  calls  shook  his  purpose  of  returning  to  Georgia  in  the 
autumn.  "I  yet  keep  to  my  intended  plan,"  he  says,  but 
11  perhaps  I  may  not  see  Georgia  until  Christmas."  A  tempt- 
ing prospect  was  now  held  out  to  him, — of  "fresh  work" 
at  Albany,  Great  Barrington,  Norfolk,  Salisbury,  Sharon, 
and  New  Windsor.  This  was  rendered  irresistible  by  the 
offer  of  Kirkland,  the  Oneida  missionary,  to  accompany  him, 
and  to  take  him  to  "a  great  congress  of  the  Indians."  It 
does  not  appear,  however,  that  he  went  to  the  Oneida  con- 
gress. There  are,  indeed,  the  names  of  some  Indian 
towns  in  his  notes  of  this  tour,  but  no  mention  is  made  of 
Indians. 

"VVhitefield,  asmight  be  expected,  enjoyed  much  the  scenery 
of  the  Hudson,  during  his  sail  to  Albany  ;  especially  in  the 
pass  between  the  Catskill  mountains  ;  and  not  less  when  he 
visited  the  Cohoes,  the  falls  of  the  Mohawk,  at  Schenectady. 
At  both,  he  could  only  exclaim,  "  0  thou  wonder-working 
God  !  "  (The  scenery  of  America  will  not  long  be  unknown 
in  Britain.  I  have  seen  Bartlett's  glorious  sketches  of  it ; 
and  some  of  the  engravings  are  now  before  me,  in  the  same 
style  as  those  of  Beattie's  Switzerland,  Scotland,  and  Wal- 
denses.  The  verbal  descriptions,  likewise,  are  equally 
graphic.  The  religious  public  here  want  such  a  work,  in 
order  to  understand  and  appreciate  Reed  and  Cox,  and  in 
order  to  sympathize  with  Washington  Irving,  in  their  enthu- 
siastic admiration  of  Transatlantic  beauty  and  sublimity.  I 
need  not  say  that  I  am  not pujfing  the  work,  even  when  I  add 
that  it  is  passing  through  the  press  under  my  own  eye.     I 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       493 

have  all  the  reward  I  wish  for,  in  being  the  first  reader 
of  an  illustrative  work,  worthy  of  America,  and  wanted  in 
Britain.  It  will  enable  many,  like  myself,  to  trace  with  the 
eyes  of  the  understanding,  the  steps  of  Brainerd  and  White- 
field,  of  Reed  and  Cox,  and  of  all  tourists  who  are  worth 
following.) 

I  am  unable  to  point  out  Whitefield's  route  from  Albany 
back  to  New- York.  It  embraced  a  circuit  of  more  than  five 
hundred  miles,  and  occupied  him  during  the  whole  of  the 
month  of  July.  All  that  he  himself  records  of  it — and  it  is 
the  last  entry  in  his  memoranda — is,  "  Heard  afterwards  that 
the  word  ran  and  was  glorified.  Grace,  grace  !  "  His  last 
letter  but  one  to  his  friend  Keene,  is  a  little  more  explicit. 
"  All  fresh  work  where  I  have  been.  Congregations  have 
been  very  large,  attentive,  and  affected.  The  divine  influence 
hath  been  as  at  first.  Oh  what  a  scene  of  usefulness  is  open- 
ing in  various  parts  of  the  new  world!  Invitations  crowd 
upon  me  both  from  ministers  and  people,  and  from  many, 
many  quarters.  A  very  peculiar  providence  led  me  lately  to  a 
place  where  a  horsestealer  was  executed.  Thousands  at- 
tended. The  poor  criminal  had  sent  me  several  letters,  on 
hearing  I  was  in  the  country.  The  sheriff  allowed  him  to 
come  and  hear  a  sermon  under  an  adjacent  tree.  Solemn, 
solemn  !  After  being  by  himself  about  an  hour — I  walked 
half  a  mile  with  him  to  the  gallows.  An  instructive  walk  ! 
His  heart  had  been  softened  before  my  first  visit. — I  went  up 
with  him  into  the  cart.  He  gave  a  short  exhortation.  I  then 
stood  on  the  coffin  ;  added,  I  trust,  a  word  in  season,  prayed, 
and  took  my  leave.  Effectual  good,  I  trust,  was  done.  Grace, 
grace  ! " 

From  New-York  he  went  to  Boston,  in  the  middle  of  Sep- 
tember :  and  again  had  to  say,  "  Never  was  the  word  received 
with  greater  eagerness  than  now.  All  opposition  seems 
to  cease  for  a  while.  I  never  was  carried  through  the  sum- 
mer's heat  so  well."  All  this  encouraged  him  to  start  again 
upon  another  circuit.  He  therefore  went  to  Newbury  ;  but 
was  obliged  to  return  suddenly,  in  consequence  of  an  attack 
of  cholera  in  the  night.  Still,  he  was  not  alarmed  for  his 
general  health.  He  soon  rallied  again,  and  set  off  to  New 
Hampshire,  to  "  begin  to  begin,"  as  he  said,  anew  ! 

I  have  now  to  transcribe  the  last  letter  he  wrote  to  England. 
It  is  dated  from  Portsmouth,  seven  days  before  he  died,  and 
addressed  to  nis  friend  Keene,  one  of  the  managers  of  the 

42 


494        whitefield's    life    and    times. 

Tabernacle.  "  My  very  dear  friend,  you  will  see  by  the 
many  invitations,  what  a  door  is  opened  for  preaching  the 
everlasting  gospel.  I  was  so  ill  on  Friday,  that  I  could  not 
preach,  although  thousands  were  waiting  to  hear.  Well  ; 
the  day  of  release  will  shortly  come  : — but  it  does  not  seem 
yet ;  for,  by  riding  sixty  miles,  I  am  better,  and  hope  to 
preach  here  to-morrow.  I  trust  my  blessed  Master  will  ac- 
cept of  these  poor  efforts  to  serve  him.  Oh  for  a  warm  heart ! 
Oh  to  stand  fast  in  the  faith,  to  quit  ourselves  like  men,  and 
be  strong !  "  This  prayer  was  answered,  but  his  hope  "  to 
see  all  dear  friends,  about  the  time  proposed,"  was  not  re- 
alized. 

At  Portsmouth,  however,  he  preached  daily,  from  the  23rd 
to  the  29th  of  September,  besides  once  at  Kittery  and  Old 
York. 

On  Saturday  morning,  September  29,  he  set  out  for  Bos- 
ton; but  before  he  came  to  Newbury  Port,  where  he  had  en- 
gaged to  preach  next  morning,  he  was  importuned  to  preach 
by  the  way  at  Exeter.  At  the  last  he  preached  in  the  open 
air,  to  accommodate  the  multitudes  that  came  to  hear  him,  no 
house  being  able  to  contain  them.  He  continued  his  dis- 
course near  two  hours,  by  which  he  was  greatly  fatigued  ; 
notwithstanding  which,  in  the  afternoon  he  set  off  for  Newbury 
Port,  where  he  arrived  that  evening,  and  soon  after  retired  to 
rest,  being  Saturday  night,  fully  intent  on  preaching  the  next 
day.  His  rest  was  much  broken,  and  he  awoke  many  times 
in  the  night,  and  complained  very  much  of  an  oppression  at 
his  lungs,  breathing  with  much  difficulty.  And  at  length, 
about  six  o'clock  on  the  Lord's  day  morning,  he  departed  this 
life  in  a  fit  of  the  asthma. 

Mr.  Richard  Smith,  who  attended  Mr.  Whitefield  from 
England  to  America  the  last  time,  and  was  his  constant  com- 
panion in  all  his  journeyings  while  there,  till  the  time  of  his 
decease,  has  given  the  following  particular  account  of  his 
death  and  interment ; — 

"  On  Saturday,  September  29,  1770,  Mr.  Whitefield  rode 
from  Portsmouth  to  Exeter,  (fifteen  miles,)  in  the  morning, 
and  preached  there  to  a  very  great  multitude  in  the  fields.  It 
is  remarkable,  that  before  he  went  out  to  preach  that  day, 
(which  proved  to  be  his  last  sermon,)  Mr.  Clarkson,  senior, 
observing  him  more  uneasy  than  usual,  said  to  him,  •  Sir,  you 
are  more  fit  to  go  to  bed  than  to  preach.'  To  which  Mr. 
Whitefield    answered,  '  True,    sir ; '    but  turning   aside,  he 


whitefield's    life   and    times.       495 

clasped  his  hands  together,  and  looking  up,  said — '  Lord 
Jesus,  I  am  weary  i?i  thy  work,  but  not  of  thy  work.  If  I 
have  not  yet  finished  my  course,  let  me  go  and  speak  for  thee 
once  more  in  the  fields,  seal  thy  truth,  and  come  home  and 
die  !  '  His  last  sermon  was  from  2  Cor.  xiii.  5, — '  Examine 
yourselves,  whether  ye  be  in  the  faith,  prove  your  own  selves: 
know  ye  not  your  own  selves,  how  that  Jesus  Christ  is  in 
you,  except  ye  be  reprobates  V  He  dined  at  Captain  Gillman's. 
After  dinner,  Mr.  Whitefield  and  Mr.  Parsons  rode  to  New- 
bury, I  did  not  get  there  till  two  hours  after  them.  I  found  them 
at  supper.  I  asked  Mr.  Whitefield  how  he  felt  himself  after  his 
journey.  He  said,  '  he  was  tired,  therefore  he  supped  early, 
and  would  go  to  bed.'  He  ate  a  very  little  supper,  talked  but 
little,  asked  Mr.  Parsons  to  discharge  the  table,  and  perform 
family  duty  ;  and  then  retired  up  stairs.  He  said,  ■  that  he 
would  sit  and  read  till  I  came  to  him,'  which  I  did  as  soon  as 
possible  ;  and  found  him  reading  in  the  Bible,  with  Dr. 
Watts's  Psalms  lying  open  before  him.  He  asked  me  for 
some  water  gruel,  and  took  about  half  his  usual  quantity; 
and,  kneeling  down  by  the  bed-side,  closed  the  evening 
with  prayer.  After  a  little  conversation,  he  went  to  rest, 
and  slept  till  two  in  the  morning,  when  he  awoke  me,  and 
asked  for  a  little  cider ;  he  drank  about  a  wine-glass  full.  I 
asked  him  how  he  felt,  for  he  seemed  to  pant  for  breath.  He 
told  me  '  his  asthma  was  coming  on  him  again  ;  he  must  have 
two  or  three  days'  rest.  Two  or  three  days'  riding,  without 
preaching,  would  set  him  up  again.'  Soon  afterwards,  he 
asked  me  to  put  the  window  up  a  little  higher,  (though  it  was 
half  up  all  night,)  'for,'  said  he,  'I  cannot  breathe;  but  I 
hope  I  shall  be  better  by  and  by  ;  a  good  pulpit  sweat  to-day, 
may  give  me  relief:  I  shall  be  better  after  preaching.' 
I  said  to  him,  I  wished  he  would  not  preach  so  often.  He 
replied,  '  I  had  rather  wear  out  than  rust  out.'  I  then  told 
him,  I  was  afraid  he  took  cold  in  preaching  yesterday.  He 
said,  '  he  believed  he  had  ;'  and  then  sat  up  in  the  bed,  and 
prayed  that  God  would  be  pleased  to  bless  his  preaching 
where  he  had  been,  and  also  bless  his  preaching  that  day, 
that  more  souls  might  be  brought  to  Christ  ;  and  prayed  for 
direction,  whether  he  should  winter  at  Boston,  or  hasten  to 
the  southward — prayed  for  a  blessing  on  his  Bethesda  col- 
lege, and  his  dear  family  there — for  Tabernacle  and  chapel 
congregations,  and  all  connexions  on  the  other  side  of  the 
water  ;  and  then  laid  himself  down  to  sleep  again.     This  was 


496        whitefield's    life    and    times. 

nigh  three  o'clock.     At  a  quarter  past  four  he  waked,  and 
said,  '  My  asthma,  my  asthma  is  coming  on  ;   I  wish  I  had  not 
given  out  word  to  preach  at  Haverhill,  on  Monday  ;    I  don't 
think  I  shall  be  able  ;  but  I  shall  see  what  to-day  will  bring 
forth.     If  I  am  no  better  to-morrow,  I  will  take  two  or  three 
days'  ride  ! '    He  then  desired  me  to  warm  him  a  little  gruel ; 
and,  in   breaking  the  firewood,  I  waked  Mr.  Parsons,  who 
thinking  I  knocked  for  him,  rose  and  came  in.     He  went  to 
Mr.  YYhitefield's  bed-side,  and  asked  him  how  he  felt  himself. 
He  answered, '  I  am  almost  suffocated.     I  can  scarce  breathe, 
my  asthma  quite  chokes  me.'     I  was  then  not  a  little  surpris- 
ed to  hear  how  quick,  and  with  what  difficulty,  he  drew  his 
breath.     He  got  out  of  bed,  and  went  to  the   open  window 
for  air.     This  was  exactly  at  five  o'clock.     I  went  to  him, 
and  for  about  the  space  of  five  minutes  saw  no  danger,  only 
that  he  had  a  great  difficulty  in  breathing,  as  I  had  often  seen 
before.     Soon  afterwards  he  turned  himself  to  me,  and  said, 
'/  am  dying.''     I  said,  '  I  hope  not,  sir.'     He  ran  to  the  other 
window  panting  for  breath,  but  could  get  no  relief.     It  was 
agreed  that  I  should  go"  for  Dr.  Sawyer ;  and  on  my  coming 
back,  I  saw  death  on  his  face ;    and  he  again  said,  '/  am  dy- 
ing.''   His  eyes  were  fixed,  his  under  lip  drawing  inward  every 
time  he  drew  breath  ;    he  went  towards  the  window,  and  we 
offered  him  some  warm  wine,  with  lavender  drops,  which  he 
refused.     I  persuaded  him  to  sit  down  in  the  chair,  and  have 
his  cloak  on ;   he  consented  by  a  sign,  but  could  not  speak. 
I  then  offered  him  the  glass  of  warm  wine  ;  he  took  half  of  it, 
but  it  seemed  as  if  it  would  have  stopped  his  breath  entirely. 
In   a  little   time  he  brought  up  a  considerable  quantity  of 
phlegm  and  wind.     I  then  began  to  have  some  small  hopes. 
Mr.  Parsons  said,  he  thought  Mr.  Whitefield  breathed  more 
freely  than  he  did,  and  would  recover.     I  said,  •  No  sir,  he  is 
certainly  dying.'     I  was  continually  employed  in  taking  the 
phlegm  out  of  his  mouth  with  a  handkerchief,  and  bathing  his 
temples  with  drops,  rubbing  his  wrists,  &c,  to  give  him  re- 
lief, if  possible,  but  all  in  vain  ;    his  hands  and  feet  were  as 
cold  as  clay.     \\  hen  the  doctor  came  in,  and  saw  him  in  the 
chair  leaning  upon  my  breast,  he  felt  his  pulse,  and  said,  '  He 
is  a  dead  man.'     Mr.  Parsons  said,  '  I  do  not  believe  it ;  you 
must  do  something,  doctor !  '  He  said,  '  I  cannot  ;  he  is  now 
near  his  last  breath.'     Aad  indeed  so  it  was  ;    for  he  fetched 
but  one  gasp,  and  stretched   out  his  feet,  and   breathed  no 
more.     This  was  exactly  at  six  o'clock.     We  continued  rub- 


whitefield' s  life   and  times.         497 

bing  his  legs,  hands  and  feet,  with  warm  cloths,  and  bathed 
him  with  spirits  for  some  time,  but  all  in  vain.  I  then  put 
him  into  a  warm  bed,  the  doctor  standing  by,  and  often  raised 
him  upright,  continued  rubbing  him  and  putting  spirits  to  his 
nose  for  an  hour,  till  all  hopes  were  gone.  The  people  came 
in  crowds  to  see  him  :  I  begged  the  doctor  to  shut  the  door." 
Smith. 

Thus  Whitefield  died.  I  need  not  the  apocalyptic  voice 
from  heaven  in  order  to  "write,"  nor  do  you  in  order  to  ex- 
claim, "  Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord  from  hence- 
forth :  Yea,  saith  the  Spirit,  that  they  may  rest  from  their  la- 
bours, and  their  works  do  follow  them :  "  but  the  very  readi- 
ness with  which  we  utter  all  this  oracle  at  his  death-bed, 
should  lead  us  to  inquire,  why  we  utter  only  part  of  it  at  the 
death-beds  of  the  righteous  in  general.  I  must  for  my  own 
sake,  if  not  for  your  sake  also,  meditate  on  this, 

"In  the  chamber, 
Where  the  good  man  met  his  fate." 

I  have  not  often  troubled  you  with  formal  reflections  in  this 
work.  There  was  no  need  of  them,  whilst  Whitefield  could 
speak  for  himself.  But  he  is  now  dead;  and  although  "  he 
yet  speaketh,"  his  language  needs  an  interpreter,  who  under- 
stands both  it  and  the  oracle  I  have  just  quoted. 

The  blessedness  of  dying  in  the  Lord,  is  a  privilege  under- 
stood and  appreciated  by  all  real  Christians.  Even  almost 
Christians  see,  at  a  glance,  how  sweet  it  must  be  to  sleep  in 
Jesus.  Yea,  the  very  Balaams  of  the  church,  who  love  gain 
more  than  godliness,  feel  what  they  say,  when  they  exclaim 
from  time  to  time,  "  Let  me  die  the  death  of  the  righteous, 
and  let  my  last  end  be  like  his."  Accordingly,  the  oracle, 
"  Blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in  the  Lord,"  has  passed 
into  a  proverb  ;  the  truth  of  which  no  one  doubts,  and  the 
sweetness  of  which  all  acknowledge. 

It  is  a  remarkable  fact,  however,  that  the  last  clause  of  that 
oracle  has  not  become  proverbial,  except  in  its  application  to 
very  eminent  and  useful  Christians.  We  say  of  all  who  die 
in  Jesus,  "  they  rest  from  their  labours  :  "  but  of  how  few  we 
add,  with  any  great  emphasis  or  motion — "  their  works  do  fol- 
low them,"  Rev.  xiv.  13.  He  must  have  been,  if  not  a  second 
Whitefield,  at  least  a  very  devoted  man,  of  whom  we  say,  with 

42* 


498      whitefield's    life    and    times. 

triumph  or  pleasure,  or  even  without  faltering  hesitation, 
"  His  works  do  follow  him." 

It  is  worthy  of  special  notice,  that  this  hesitation  was  fore- 
seen, and  provided  against,  when  the  oracle  was  first  given  to 
the  church.  John  savs,  "  I  heard  a  voice  from  heaven  say- 
ing unto  me,  Write,  Blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in  the 
Lord  from  henceforth."  That  heavenly  voice,  however,  said 
no  more  ;  ventured  no  further.  It  was  the  Holy  Ghost  who 
added  the  other  parts  of  the  oracle  :  "Yea,  saith  the  Spirit, 
that  they  may  rest  from  their  lahours  ;  and  their  works  do  fol- 
low them."  Instances  of  this  kind  of  addition  to  the  amount 
or  the  momentum  of  an  oracle,  are  not  uncommon.  Hence 
Paul,  when  warning  the  Hebrews  by  the  fate  of  the  church  in 
the  wilderness,  added  to  the  counsel,  "  Harden  not  your 
hearts,"  the  appeal,  "The  Holy  Ghost  saith,  Today  if  ye  will 
hear  his  voice,"  Heb.  iii.  7.  In  like  manner  the  Saviour, 
when  expounding  the  law  on  the  mount,  added  to  his  quota- 
tions of  the  law  his  own  injunctions  ;  prefaced  thus, — "  But, 
I  say  unto  you,"  Matt.  v.  20. 

Such  was  the  rule,  in  the  revelation  of  some  truths.  Its 
reason  is  not,  however,  so  easily  explained,  in  the  case  of  the 
dead,  as  in  the  case  of  the  living.  It  was  a  fine  measure  for 
giving  effect  to  the  tremendous  warnings  addressed  to  the 
Hebrews,  to  make  Paul  fall  back  for  a  time  into  the  shade, 
until  the  Holy  Ghost  himself  said,  "I  sware  in  my  wrath." 
After  that,  the  apostle's  "Take  heed,  brethren,"  and  his  "  Let 
us  fear,"  could  not  be  wondered  at,  nor  fairly  objected  to, 
however  solemnly  uttered,  nor  however  warmly  enforced. 

Perhaps  this  hint  will  furnish  a  clue  to  the  reason,  why  the 
Holy  Spirit  took  up  the  subject  of  future  blessedness,  where 
the  voice  from  heaven  stopped.  He  confirmed  that  voice, 
so  far  as  it  went.  "  Yea,  saith  the  Spirit,"  they  are  blessed 
who,  "  die  in  the  Lord."  Then  he  added  an  explanation  of  that 
blessedness,  which  comes  better  from  himself,  surely,  than  it 
could  have  come  from  the  lips  of  either  saints  or  angels  in 
heaven.  They,  indeed,  could  have  gone  a  little  further  than 
they  did,  and  might  have  said,  (the  former  from  their  own  ex- 
perience, aud  the  latter  from  long  observation,)  "  the  dead  in 
Christ  rest  from  their  labours  :  " — but  it  would  hardly  have 
become  saints  or  angels  to  complete  the  explanation  of  celes- 
tial bliss  by  adding,  "  their  works  do  follow  the  dead  which 
die  in  the  Lord."  Indeed,  the  more  they  understood  this 
truth  then,  the  less  they  would  venture  to  say  about  it ; — it  is 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        499 

so  sublime  and  amazing  !  Besides,  it  was  then  so  new,  that 
no  one  in  heaven  could  well  understand  it.  The  fruits  and 
effects  of  the  works  of  those  who  had  slept  in  Jesus,  were  but 
just  beginning  to  follow  them.  The  reaction  of  their  works 
of  faith  and  labours  of  love,  was  only  coming  into  operation 
on  earth  :  and  thus  only  "  a  kind  of  its  first-fruits  "  had  reach- 
ed heaven  ;  so  that  even  those  who  had  "  turned  many  unto 
righteousness,"  by  watching  to  win  souls  whilst  here,  had  no 
idea  then  of  the  number  of  souls  they  had  won  by  watching. 
They  know  better  now — and  they  knew  soon  after  the  death 
of  John,  that  their  labour  had  not  been  in  vain  in  the  Lord  : 
but  when  the  apocalyptic  oracle  was  first  given,  they  were  not 
jit  to  complete  it,  either  from  their  own  knowledge,  or  from 
their  own  spirit.  1  mean — they  were  too  much  absorbed  with 
a  heaven  all  new  to  them — with  their  own  personal  enjoy- 
ment— and  especially  with  the  presence  of  the  Lamb  slain — 
to  think  about  their  relative  usefulness  on  earth.  They  had 
sung  nothing  about  their  works,  and  thought  nothing  about 
them,  in  heaven,  except  to  blush  for  their  fewness  and  imper- 
fections ;  and,  therefore,  they  said  nothing  about  the  fruits 
which  followed,  when  they  cried  down  from  their  thrones  of 
light  and  mansions  of  glory  to  John,  "  Write,  Blessed  are  the 
dead  which  die  in  the  Lord  from  henceforth."  Here  they 
stopped  at  once.  Then,  there  was  silence  in  heaven  !  But 
the  eternal  Spirit  did  not  let  the  matter  rest  here.  He  carried 
on  and  completed  the  revelation  of  that  blessedness.  Having 
"wrought  all  their  works  in  them  ;  "  having  "  created  them 
anew  in  Christ  Jesus  unto  good  works  ;  "  and  having  wrought 
by  them  in  glorifying  Christ  on  earth,  the  Holy  Spirit  would 
not,  did  not,  conceal  the  sublime  fact,  that  the  works  of  such 
working  men  do  follow  them  into  heaven,  in  their  fruits  and 
effects,  as  surely  as  their  bodies  will  follow  their  souls  into 
heaven. 

This  is  one  good  reason  for  the  peculiarity  of  the  oracle. 
It  is  not,  however,  the  only  one  worthy  of  notice.  There  is 
in  the  church  on  earth,  something  of  the  same  spirit  which 
kept  the  church  in  hpaven  silent  on  the  subject  of  works.  I 
am  aware  that  we  have  other  reasons  for  saying  nothing  about 
our  works,  than  those  had  whom  John  saw.  Ours  are  fewer 
and  feebler  than  theirs.  Some,  indeed,  do  nothing  arduous 
or  expensive  in  the  service  of  God,  or  for  the  good  of  man- 
kind. Many  only  work  enough  to  prove  that  they  are  unwill- 
ing to  work.     But  such,  if  they  are  in  the  church  of  Christ, 


500        white  field's  life   and  times. 

are  certainly  not  of  it.  On  the  other  hand,  however,  it  is 
equally  true,  that  in  general,  the  active,  the  benevolent,  and 
the  enterprising,  do  not  allow  themselves  to  take  any  higher 
views  of  their  best  works,  deliberately,  than  as  proofs  of  faith, 
love,  or  sincerity.  If  their  well-doing  prove  that  their  faith  is 
unfeigned,  they  are  quite  satisfied.  Even  when  they  cannot 
doubt  the  usefulness  of  their  labours  of  love,  nor  hide  from 
themselves  the  fact,  that  God  has  honoured  their  humble 
efforts  to  save  some,  they  are  only  stirred  up  to  watch  the 
more,  lest  after  having  preached  to  others,  they  themselves 
should  turn  out  castaways  ;  lest,  in  keeping  the  vineyards  of 
others,  their  own  should  be  neglected.  Yes,  it  is  this,  more 
than  the  dread  of  legality  or  of  self-complacency,  which  makes 
many  a  faithful  servant  afraid  to  call  his  service  works.  He 
sees  clearly  in  the  best  of  it,  so  much  that  is  bad  in  manner 
and  worse  in  spirit,  that  he  is  more  ashamed  of  his  good 
works  than  Pharisees  are  of  their  evil  works.  "  Good"  or 
"  faithful  servant,"  is  the  last  name  of  a  Christian,  which  he 
thinks  of  appropriating  to  himself.  He  is  even  more  than 
content,  he  is  grateful,  if  he  can  hope  to  escape  the  branding 
name,  "  wicked  and  slothful  servant."  He  well  understands 
and  approves  what  one  of  Whkefield's  friends,  a  devoted 
minister,  said  on  his  death-bed, — "  I  have  been  throwing  into 
one  heap  all  my  bad  works  and  my  good  works,  and  carrying 
both  to  the  foot  of  the  cross." 

Thus  it  is,  that  the  rewardableness  of  well-doing  has  hardly 
any  place  in  the  actuating  creed  of  a  real  Christian,  whatever 
theoretic  credence  he  may  give  to  it.  He  may  even  be  elo- 
quent in  speaking  of  the  works  of  Paul,  Luther,  Bunyan,  Bax- 
ter, Whitefield,  and  Wesley,  following  them  to  heaven  in  forms 
of  good,  and  as  sources  of  joy, — and  yet  be  more  than  silent 
in  his  own  case,  although  quite  sure  that  his  own  labour  has 
not  been  in  vain  in  the  Lord. 

This  is  real  humility,  as  well  as  modesty.  Is  it,  however, 
as  wise  as  it  is  humble;  as  scriptural  as  it  is  modest?  Not  if 
Moses  was  right  in  having  "  respect  to  the  recompence  of 
reward  1 "  not  if  Daniel  was  right  in  saying,  that  they  who 
turn  many  to  righteousness  shall  "  shine  as  the  stars  for  ever 
and  ever;"  not  if  Paul  was  right  in  anticipating  his  converts, 
as  his  crown  and  joy  in  the  day  of  the  Lord.  It  will  not 
weaken  the  force  of  this  argument  to  add, — not  if  Whitefield 
was  right  in  keeping  before  himself  and  his  fellow-labourers 
the  prospect  of  presenting  many  souls  before  the  throne.     He 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        501 

"  hunted  for  souls,"  as  well  as  watched  to  win  souls,  because 
he  allowed  himself  to  see — indeed,  set  himself  to  study — how 
the  "  children"  God  gave  him  as  seals  to  his  ministry,  would 
increase  his  blessedness,  when  he  rested  from  his  labours. 
There  are  many  fine  specimens  of  this  inspiring  hope,  in  his 
letters  to  the  Wesleys,  the  Tennents,  and  the  Welsh  itiner- 
ants. "  I  see  you  with  thousands  around  you  in  glory,"  is  a 
frequent  appeal  to  them.  And  so  distinctly  and  habitually  did 
he  realize  this  scene,  that  even  when  writing  against  Wesley, 
he  closed  his  remonstrance  by  saying, — "  When  I  come  to 
judgment,  I  will  thank  you  before  men  and  angels  for  what 
you  have,  under  God,  done  for  my  soul." 

Even  all  this,  however,  does  not  come  up  to  the  full  im- 
port of  "  what  the  Spirit  saith  unto  the  churches."  His  "Yea, 
their  works  do  follow  them,"  includes  more  than  the  imme- 
diate fruits  of  their  labour.  It  embraces  also  the  succession 
of  remote  good  which  their  example,  labour,  and  influence, 
might  originate  and  prolong.  And,  who  can  calculate  or 
trace  out  that?  No  one  understood  this  arithmetic  less  than 
Whitefield.  He  was  all  alive  to  the  immediate  numbers  he 
could  gather  into  the  fold  of  Christ.  He  even  revelled  in  the 
prospect  of  meeting  them  on  the  right  hand  of  the  great  white 
throne,  and  of  spending  his  eternity  with  them  in  heaven  ;  but 
he  did  not  calculate  the  consequences  of  their  individual  or 
joint  influence  upon  their  contemporaries,  or  even  upon  their 
posterity.  Indeed,  the  apostles  themselves  did  not  allow 
their  eye  to  run  far  along  the  line  of  their  remote  influence. 
Even  they  could  not  "  look  stedfastly  to  the  end."  We  can 
see  the  names  of  "  the  twelve  apostles  of  the  Lamb,"  on  the 
"  twelve  foundations  "  of  both  the  earthly  and  the  heavenly 
Jerusalem;  and  can  trace  Paul  planting  and  A  polios  water- 
ing yet ;  and  can  hear  all  the  dead  in  Christ,  still  speaking  to 
the  living;  and  thus  can  understand  how  their  works  are  still 
following  them,  and  will  continue  to  follow  them  until  the  end 
of  time,  and  even  how  they  will  be  their  own  reward  through 
eternity  :  but  the  workmen  could  not  foresee  all  this.  It  only 
began  to  break  upon  these  good  and  faithful  servants,  when 
they  entered  into  the  joy  of  their  Lord  ,  and  then,  they  were 
so  absorbed  with  the  presence  of  theirLord  himself,  that  they 
could  not  take  their  eyes  oft*  from  Him  for  a  moment,  to  look 
at  any  thing  beyond  the  immediate  children  they  had  to  pre- 
sent before  his  throne. 

It  becomes  the  church,  however,  now  that  she  has  the 


502        whitefield's   life  and   times. 

means  of  calculating  how  her  well-doing,  in  the  service  of 
God,  can  multiply  and  prolong  itself  from  age  to  age,  as  well 
as  spread  itself  over  the  world, — to  search  out  diligently,  what 
is  "■  the  mind  of  the  Spirit,"  in  His  "  Yea,  the  works  of  the 
dead  who  die  in  the  Lord  do  follow  them."  The  workmen 
"rest  from  their  labour;"  but  their  works  are  kept  up,  and 
carried  on,  and  even  carried  out,  as  works  which  they  began : 
and,  therefore,  all  the  dead  in  Christ  are  personally  interested 
in  all  the  good  now  doing  in  the  world,  and  in  all  the  glory 
which  that  good  is  bringing  in  to  God  and  the  Lamb :  for 
those  who  rest  from  their  labours  enter  into  the  joy  of  their 
Lord, — which  is  the  many  sons  He  brings  to  glory. 

No  one  is  prepared,  or  preparing,  to  enter  into  the  real  joy 
of  heaven,  who  is  doing  nothing  to  win  souls  to  Christ  on 
earth.  No  one  can  die  in  the  Lord,  or  enter  heaven  at  all, 
who  has  no  works  to  follow  him  there.  No  wonder !  For  no 
Christian  is  so  poor,  nor  so  busy,  nor  so  weak,  as  to  be  un- 
able to  work  for  God.  The  weakest  and  the  poorest  are  able 
to  do  work  which  neither  earth  nor  hell  can  destroy  or  stop, 
and  which  will  be  their  reward  through  eternity. 

What  Christian  cannot  pray  heartily  and  habitually  for  the 
coming  of  the  kingdom  of  God  1  Many  of  the  dead  in  Christ 
could  do  nothing  else  for  his  glory.  That  was  enough,  how- 
ever, to  prepare  them  to  enter  into  the  joy  of  their  Lord  ;  for 
that  connected  them  with  all  the  grand  instrumentality  which 
saves  souls.  This  is  too  little  considered.  I  am  not  con- 
scious of  being  particularly  insensible  to  the  natural  or  the 
moral  sublime  ;  but  I  frankly  confess,  that  I  see  and  feel  more 
sublimity  in  a  vestry  prayer  meeting  for  the  spread  of  the 
gospel,  than  in  the  most  splendid  meetings  in  Exeter  Hall. 
I  would  rather  have  been  one  in  the  first  nameless  groups,  of 
two  or  three,  who  meet  together  in  the  name  of  Christ,  to  pray 
in  the  travail  of  their  souls,  that  he  might  "  see  the  travail  of 
His  soul  and  be  satisfied,"  than  have  been  the  inventor  of  the 
platform.  I  feel  much  more  sure  that  prayer  meetings  will 
prolong  themselves,  than  that  speech  meetings  will  keep  their 
place  or  their  power.  Prayer  "  shall  be  made  for  Christ  con- 
tinually; "  and  those  who  began  its  concerts  in  Britain  and 
America,  will  never  be  separated  from  its  continuance.  Their 
work  has  been  following  them  every  year  since  they  died,  in 
new  and  larger  meetings  for  intercession,  and  in  the  answers 
not  only  to  their  own  prayers,  but  to  all  the  prayers  which 
their  example  has  thus  called  forth.  They  now  see  the  golden 


whitefield's   life   and   times.         503 

censer  of  the  High  Priest  waving  before  the  throne  with  a 
greater  weight  of  prayer,  and  emitting  a  larger  cloud  of  in- 
cense, than  it  did  when  they  first  entered  heaven.  They 
now  see  the  prayers  of  all  saints  setting  in,  like  a  spring  tide, 
upon  all  the  channels,  coasts,  and  bays  of  the  divine  purposes  ; 
here,  floating  the  smaller  vessels  of  prophecy  over  the  bar  of 
time;  and  there,  beginning  to  heave  afloat  the  largest  and  the 
heaviest  of  the  prophetic  fleet;  and  every  where  rising  to  the 
high-water  mark  of  "  effectual  fervent  prayer." 

Is  not  this  their  work  following  them  1  This  prayerfulness 
in  our  times  was  set  in  motion  by  their  example,  just  as  their 
prayerfulness  was  called  forth  by  the  example  of  the  first 
prayer-meetings  at  Jerusalem.  Now  you  and  I  can  carry  on 
this  good  work  of  intercession  and  supplication,  however  little 
else  we  can  do.  We  may  be  both  good  and  faithful  servants 
in  this  department  of  labour,  and  thus  be  prepared  to  enter  into 
the  joy  of  our  Lord. 

It  is  not  splendid  works  alone,  that  bring  glory  to  Christ, 
or  that  follow  Christians  into  heaven  in  forms  of  reward.  The 
simple  domestic  piety  of  Abraham,  Hannah,  and  Eunice,  in 
training  up  their  children  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the 
Lord,  was  work  which,  in  its  influence,  is  following  them  still, 
and  will  follow  them  until  the  last  pious  family  on  earth  com- 
plete "  the  whole  family  in  heaven."  For,  what  pious  father 
or  mother  has  not  been  influenced  and  encouraged  by  their 
example  and  success  1  Thus  the  father  of  the  Faithful,  and 
the  mothers  of  Samuel  and  Timothy,  set  in  motion  a  system 
of  parental  well-doing,  which  has  never  stopped  entirely  since, 
and  which  will  work  on  until  the  end  of  time,  and  through 
eternity  be  as  visible  in  its  effects  as  the  results  of  the  minis- 
try of  reconciliation.  O  parents  !  what  a  work,  which  would 
follow  you  like  your  shadow,  you  may  do  for  God,  by  teaching 
your  children  to  love  the  Saviour !  For  who  can  calculate 
along  the  line  of  posterity,  the  spreading  influence  of  one  pious 
family,  or  even  of  one  pious  child?  Only  think, — how  your 
own  family  may  ramify  in  the  next  generation,  and  how  it 
may  blend,  age  after  age,  with  other  families  ;  carrying  into 
them  all  a  sweet  savour  of  Christ,  along  with  your  revered 
memory,  until  there  be  actually  a  little  nation  of  your  de- 
scendants, rejoicing  in  the  God  of  their  fathers  1  But  neglect 
your  son,  or  leave  your  daughter's  principles  to  chance,  and 
you  may  set  in  motion  a  course  of  ruin  which  shall  never  stop, 


504        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

and  be  a  fountain  which  shall  originate  a  stream  of  evil  and  wo 
that  may  run,  widening  and  wasting,  through  time  and  eternity ! 

In  those  lights,  how  infinite  are  the  consequences  of  Sunday 
schools  !  They  are  now  giving  a  tone  and  a  character  to  the 
rising  generation  of  the  poor,  which  will  tell  for  ever  upon  the 
present  and  future  character  of  the  nation,  and  also  upon  the 
bliss  of  heaven.  That  teaching,  when  well  conducted,  is  a 
work,  the  fruits  of  which  will  follow  holy  teachers,  wherever 
they  follow  the  Lamb,  in  heaven.  It  will  never  stop,  until  all 
shall  know  the  Lord  ;  and  even  then,  that  grand  consumma- 
tion will  be,  in  no  small  measure,  the  fruit  of  it :  and  thus  the 
reward  of  all  who  sow,  and  of  all  who  reap. 

In  like  manner,  you  may  "  work  a  work  "  for  your  neigh- 
bourhood, which  shall  impress  an  imperishable  character  upon 
its  habits  and  spirit.  You  may  make  and  leave  it  a  nursery 
for  holiness,  from  which  you  may  be  regaled  every  year,  until 
the  end  of  time, — even  in  Paradise,  by  roses  from  the  wilder- 
ness, and  myrtles  from  the  desert.  Only  sow,  plant,  and 
water,  to  the  Spirit,  and  in  due  season,  and  through  enduring 
cycles,  you  shall  reap,  not  only  life  everlasting,  but  also  the 
full  joy  of  that  life,  by  entering  fully  into  the  joy  ofyouf  Lord. 

This  is  the  right  improvement  of  the  death  of  Whitefield. 
It  would  be  as  easy  to  write  fine  things  upon  the  subject  as  to 
read  them  ;  but  I  envy  not  the  taste,  nor  the  conscience,  that 
could  be  satisfied  with  unpractical  truths,  at  the  death-bed  of 
the  most  practical  man  who  has  appeared  since  the  days  of 
Paul.  I  feel  that  my  readers  and  myself  may  be  Whitefields 
in  something ;  and  therefore  I  have  written,  not  for  fame,  but 
in  order  to  be  useful.  Accordingly,  although  you  cannot  ad- 
mire, you  will  remember.     This  is  all  I  want. 


WHITEFIELD;S      LIFE     AND     TIMES.  505 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 


WHITEFIELD'S      FUNERAL. 

Richard  Smith's  account  of  the  funeral,  like  that  of  the 
death-bed  of  Whitefield,  needs  no  commendation  ;  but  only 
some  additions. 

"The  Reverend  Mr.  Parsons,  at  whose  house  my  dear 
master  died,  sent  for  Captain  Fetcomb  and  Mr.  Boadman, 
and  others  of  his  elders  and  deacons,  and  they  took  the  whole 
care  of  the  burial  upon  themselves,  prepared  the  vault,  and 
sent  for  the  bearers."     Smith. 

Dr.  Gillies  says,  "  Early  next  morning,  Mr.  Sherburn  of 
Portsmouth  sent  Squire  Clarkson  and  Dr.  Haven  with  a  mes- 
sage to  Mr.  Parsons,  desiring  that  Mr.  Whitefield's  remains 
might  be  buried  in  his  own  new  tomb,  at  his  own  expense : 
and  in  the  evening  several  gentlemen  from  Boston  came  to 
Mr.  Parsons,  desiring  the  body  might  be  carried  there.  But 
as  Mr.  Whitefield  had  repeatedly  desired  to  be  buried  before 
Mr.  Parsons'  pulpit,  if  he  died  at  Newbury  Port,  Mr.  Par- 
sons thought  himself  obliged  to  deny  both  of  these  requests." 

Parsons,  in  a  note  to  his  funeral  sermon,  says,  "  At  one 
o'clock  all  the  bells  in  the  town  were  tolled  for  half  an  hour, 
and  all  the  vessels  in  the  harbour  gave  their  proper  signals  of 
mourning.  At  two  o'clock  the  bells  tolled  a  second  time. 
At  three  the  bells  called  to  attend  the  funeral.  The  Reve- 
rend Dr.  Haven  of  Portsmouth,  and  the  Reverend  Messrs. 
Rogers  of  Exeter,  Jewet  and  Chandler  of  Rowley,  Moses 
Parsons  of  Newbury,  and  Bass  of  Newbury  Port,  were  pall- 
bearers. Mr.  Parsons  and  his  family,  with  many  other  res- 
pectable persons,  followed  the  corpse  in  mourning. 

"  The  procession  was  only  one  mile,  and  then  the  corpse 
was  carried  into  the  presbyterian  church,  and  placed  on  the 
bier  in  the  broad  alley  ;  when  Mr.  Rogers  made  a  very  suit- 
able prayer,  in  the  presence  of  about  six  thousand  persons 
within  the  walls  of  the  church,  while  many  thousands  were  on 

43 


506        whitefield's  life    and    times. 

the  outside."*  After  singing  one  of  Watt's  hymns,  "  the 
corpse  was  put  into  a  new  tomb,  which  the  gentlemen  of  the 
congregation  had  had  prepared  for  that  purpose  ;  and  before 
it  was  sealed,  Mr.  Jewet  gave  a  suitable  exhortation."  Par- 
sons. 

"  Many  ministers  of  all  persuasions  came  to  the  house  of 
the  Reverend  Mr.  Parsons,  where  several  of  them  gave  a 
very  particular  account  of  their  first  awakenings  under  his 
ministry,  several  years  ago,  and  also  of  many  in  their  congre- 
gations, that,  to  their  knowledge,  under  God,  owed  their  con- 
version wholly  to  his  coming  among  them,  often  repeating 
the  blessed  seasons  they  enjoyed  under  his  preaching :  and 
all  said,  that  this  last  visit  was  attended  with  more  power 
than  any  other  ;  and  that  all  opposition  fell  before  him.  Then 
one  and  another  of  them  would  pity  and  pray  for  his  dear  Ta- 
bernacle and  chapel  congregations,  and  it  was  truly  affecting 
to  hear  them  bemoan  America  and  England's  loss.  Thus 
they  continued  for  two  hours  conversing  about  his  great  use- 
fulness, and  praying  that  God  would  scatter  his  gifts  and  drop 
his  mantle  among  them.  When  the  corpse  was  placed  at  the 
foot  of  the  pulpit,  close  to  the  vault,  the  Rev.  Daniel  Rogers 
made  a  very  affecting  prayer,  and  openly  confessed,  that  un- 
der God,  he  owed  his  conversion  to  the  labours  of  that  dear 
man  of  God,  whose  precious  remains  now  lay  before  them. 
Then  he  cried  out,  O  my  father,  my  father ! — then  stopped 
and  wept,  as  though  his  heart  would  break,  and  the  people 
weeping  all  through  the  place. — Then  he  recovered,  and 
finished  his  prayer,  and  sat  down  and  wept. — Then  one  of 
the  deacons  gave  out  that  hymn, 

'  Why  do  we  mourn  departed  friends  ? '  &c. 

some  of  the  people  weeping,  some  singing,  and  so  on  alter- 
nately. The  Rev.  Mr.  Jewet  preached  a  funeral  discourse, 
and  made  an  affectionate  address  to  his  brethren,  to  lay  to 
heart  the  death  of  that  useful  man  of  God  ;  begging  that  he 
and  they  might  be  upon  their  watch  tower,  and  endeavour  to 
follow  his  blessed  example.  The  corpse  was  then  put  into 
the  vault,  and  all  concluded  with  a  short  prayer,  and  dismis- 
sion of  the  people,  who  went  weeping  through  the  streets  to 
their  respective  places  of  abode."     Smith. 

*  This  church  was  then  (1  hope  is  now)  one  of  the  largest  in  America. 
JIUen's  Did. 


whitefield's  life   and  times.         507 

"The  melancholy  news  of  Mr.  Whitefield's  decease  arrived 
in  London,  on  Monday,  November  5,  1770,  by  the  Boston 
Gazette,  and  also  by  several  letters  from  different  correspon- 
dents at  Boston,  to  his  worthy  friend,  Mr.  R.  Keene  ;  who 
received  likewise,  by  the  same  post,  two  letters  written  with 
his  own  hand,  when  in  good  health,  one  seven  and  the  other 
five  days  before  his  death.  Mr.  Keene  caused  the  mournful 
tidings  to  be  published  the  same  night  at  the  Tabernacle,  and 
the  following  evening  at  Tottenham  Court  chapel.  His  next 
step  was  to  consider  of  a  proper  person  to  deliver  a  funeral 
discourse,  when  it  occurred  to  his  mind,  that  he  had  many 
times  said  to  Mr.  Whiteficld,  'If  you  should  die  abroad,  who 
shall  we  get  to  preach  your  funeral  sermon  ?  must  it  be  your 
old  friend,  the  Rev.  John  Wesley  1 '  And  his  answer  con- 
stantly was,  '■He  is  the  man?  Mr.  Keene  therefore  waited 
on  Mr.  Wesley,  on  the  Saturday  following,  and  he  promised 
to  preach  it  on  the  Lord's  day,  November  18,  which  he  did, 
to  an  extraordinary  crowded  and  mournful  auditory ;  many 
hundreds  being  obliged  to  go  away,  who  could  not  possibly 
get  within  the  doors. 

"  In  both  the  chapel  and  Tabernacle,  the  pulpits,  &c, 
were  hung  with  black  cloth,  and  the  galleries  with  fine  black 
baize.  Escutcheons  were  affixed  to  the  fronts  of  the  pulpits ; 
and  on  each  of  the  adjoining  houses,  hatchments  were  put  up  : 
the  motto  on  which  was — iMea  vita  salus  et  gloria  Chrislus.* 
At  the  expiration  of  six  months,  the  mourning  in  each  place 
of  worship,  and  the  escutcheons  in  the  vestries,  were  taken 
down.  The  hatchments  remained  twelve  months,  when  one 
was  taken  down,  and  placed  in  the  Tabernacle,  and  the  other 
over  a  neat  marble  monument,  erected  by  Mr.  Whitefield  for 
his  wife,  in  Tottenham  Court  chapel,  with  a  space  left  for  an 
inscription  respecting  himself  after  his  decease,  as  he  wished 
to  be  interred  in  the  same  vault,  had  he  died  in  England.  Ac- 
cordingly the  following  epithaph  was  written  by  the  Rev.  Ti 
tus  Knight  of  Halifax,  in  Yorkshire." 


508        whitefield's   life   and   times. 

In  Memory  of 

The  Rev.  GEORGE  WH1TEFIELD,  A.  M. 
Chaplain  to  the  Right  Honourable  the  Countess  of  Huntingdon, 

Whose  Soul,  made  meet  for  Glory, 
Was  taken  to  Emmanuel's  Bosom, 
On  the  30th  of  September,  1770; 

And  who  now  lies  in  the  silent  Grave,  at  Newbury  Port,  near 
Boston,  in  New-England  ; 

There  deposited  in  hope  of  a  joyful  Resurrection  to  Eternal 
Life  and  Glory. 

He  was  a  Man  eminent  in  Piety, 

Of  a  Humane,  Benevolent,  and  Charitable  Disposition. 

His  Zeal  in  the  Cause  of  God  was  singular  : 

His  Labeuis  indefatigable; 

And  his  Success  in  preaching  the  Gospel  remarkable  and 

astonishing. 

He  departed  this  Life, 
In  the  Fifty-sixth  Year  of  his  Age. 


And  like  his  Master,  was  by  some  despis'd  ; 

Like  Him,  by  many  others  lov'd  and  priz'd : 
But  theirs  shall  be  the  everlasting  crown, 

Not  whom  the  world,  but  Jesus  Christ  will  own. 

This  tribute  is  as  like  Knight,  as  the  following  epitaph  is 
like  Dr.  Gibbons. 

In  Reverendum  Virum 

GEORGIUM  WHITEF1ELD, 

Laboribus  sacris  olim  abundantem;  nunc  vero,  ut  bene  speratur 

coelestem  et  immortalem  vitam  cum  Chrislo  agentem, 

EPITAPH  IM, 

(Auctore  Thomas  Gibbons,  S.  T.  P.) 

Electum  et  divinum  vas,  Whitefieldi  fuisti 

Ingenio  pollens,  divitiisque  sacris  : 

His  opibus  populo  longe  lateque  tributis, 

Tandem  perfrueris  lnetitia  superum 

Inque  hai  c  intrasti,  Domino  plaudentc  ministrum: 

Expertum  in  multis,  assiduumque  bonum : 

Ecce  mea  portus,  et  clara  palatia  coeli 

Deliciis  plenis  omnia  aperta  tibi. 

Dum  matutinam  Stellam,  quam  dulce  rubentem! 

Vivificos  rorcsque  ossa  sepulta  manent. 


whitefield's   lipe   and   times.         509 

TRANSLATION. 

A  vessel  chosen  and  divine,  replete 

"With  nature's  gifts,  and  grace's  richer  stores, 

Thou  Whitefield  wast:  these  through  the  world  dispens'd, 

In  long  laborious  travels,  thou  at  length 

Hast  reach'd  the  realms  of  rest  to  which  thy  Lord 

Has  welconi'd  thee  with  his  immense  applause! 

All  hail,  my  servant,  in  thy  various  trusts 
Found  vigilant  and  faithful !  See  the   ports, 

See  the  eternal  kingdoms  of  the  skies, 
With  all  their  boundless  glory,  boundless  joy, 

Open'd  for  thy  reception  and  thy  bliss  ! 
Mean   time,   the  body   in   its  peaceful  cell, 

Reposing  from  its  toils,  awaits  the  star, 

Whose  living  lustres  lead  that  promis'd  morn, 

Whose  vivifying  dews  thy  moulder'd  corse 

Shall  visit,  and  immortal  life  inspire. 

The  following  lines  are  part  of  a  poem  on  Mr.  Whitefield, 
written  by  a  negro  servant  girl,  seventeen  years  of  age,  be- 
longing to  Mr.  J.  Wheatley,  of  Boston.  They  are  better  than 
De  C our cifs  Elegy. 

"  He  prayed  that  grace  in  every  heart  might  dwell, 
He  longed  to  see  America  excel  ! 
He  charged  its  youth  to  let  the  grace  divine 
Arise,  and  in  their  future  actions  shine. 
He  offered  what  he  did  himself  receive, 
A  greater  gift  not  God  himself  can  give. 
He  urged  the  need  of  it  to  every  one. ; 
It  was  no  less  than  God's  co  equal  Son ! 
Take  Him,  ye  wretched,  for  your  only  good — 
Take  Him,  ye  starving  souls,  to  be  your  food. 
Ye  thirsty  come  to  this  life-giving  stream  ; 
Ye  preachers,  take  Him  for  your  joyful  theme. 
Take  Him,  my  dear  Americans,  he  said, 
Be  your  complaints  in  His  kind  bosom  laid. 
Take  Him,  ye  Africans,  he  longs  for  you! 
Impartial  Savioor  is  His  title  due. 
If  you  will  choose  to  walk  in  grace's  road, 
You  shall  be  sons,  and  kings,  and  priests  to  God. 

Great  Countess  !  we  Americans  revere 
Thy  name,  and  thus  condole  thy  grief  sincere. 
New  England  sure  doth  feel : — the  orphan's  smart 
Reveals  the  true  sensations  of  his  heart. 
His  lonely  Tabernacle  sees  no  more 
A  Whitefield  landing  on  the  British  shore. 
Then  let  us  view  him  in  yon  azure  skies, 
Let  every  mind  with  this  loved  object  rise. 
Thou,  tomb,  shalt  safe  retain  thy  sacred  trust, 
Till  life  divine  reanimates  his  dust." 

43* 


510       whttefield's    life    and    times. 

Cowper's  tribute  to  the  memory  of  Whitefield,  although  well 
known,  must  not  be  omitted  here. 

"  Leuconomus   (beneath  well-sounding  Greek 
I  slur  a  name,  a  poet  must  not  speak) 
Stood  pilloried  on  infamy's  high  stage, 
And  bore  the  pelting  scorn  of  half  an  age. 
The  very  butt  of  slander  and  the  blot 
For  every  uart  that  malice  ever  shot. 
The  man  that  mentioned  him,  at  once  dismiss'd 
All  mercy  from  his  lips  and  sneer'd  and  hiss'd. 
His  crimes  were  such  as  Sodom  never  knew, 
And  perjury  stood  up  to  swear  all  true  : 
His  aim  was  mischief  and  his  zeal  pretence, 
His  speech  rebellion  against  common  sense: 
A  knave,  when  tried  on  honesty's  plain  rule, 
And  when  by  that  of  reason  a  mere  fool. 
The  world's  best  comfort  was  his  doom  was  pass'd, 
Die  when  he  might  he  must  be  damn'd  at  last. 
Now,  truth,  perform  thine  office  !  watt  aside 
The  curiain  drawn  by  piejudice  and  pride; 
Reveal  (the  man  is  dead)   to  wond'ring  eyes, 
This  more  than  monster  in  his  proper  guise  : — 
He  lov'd  the  world  that  hated  him  ;  the  tear 
That  dropp'd  upon  his  Bible  was  sincere  '. 
Assail'd  by  scandal  arid  the  tongue  of  strife, 
His  only  answer  was — a  blameless  life: 
And  he  that  forged,  and  he  that  threw,  the  dart, 
Had  each  a  brother's  interest  in  his  heart. 
Paul's  love  of  Christ,  and  steadiness  unbrib'd, 
"Were  copied  close  in  him,  and  well  transcrib'd. 
He  followed  Paul — his  zeal  a  kindred  flame, 
His  apostolic  charity  the  same  : 
Like  him  cross'd  cheerfully  tempestuous  seas, 
Forsaking  country,  kindred,  friends,  and  ease  ; 
Like  him  he  labour'd,  and  like  him,  content 
To  bear  it,  suffer'd  shame  where'er  he  went. 

Blush  calumny  !    and  write  upon  his  tomb, 
If  honest  eulogy  can  spare  thee  room, 
Thy  deep  repentance  of  thy  thousand  lies, 
Which,  aim'd  at  him,  have  piere'd  the  offended  skies; 
And  say,  Blot  out  my  sin,  confess'd.  deplor'd, 
Against  thine  image,  in  thy  saint,  O  Lord  !  " 

America  did  not  fail  to  mark  her  veneration  for  White- 
field's  memory.  It  was  not  alone  at  Newbury  Port  that  "  good 
men  made  great  lamentation  over  him."  Distant  places  vied 
with  both  Newbury  and  London,  in  this  tribute  of  esteem 
and  sorrow.  Winter  says  to  Jay,  "  You  have  no  conception 
of  the  effect  of  Whitefield's  death  upon  the  inhabitants  of  the 
province  of  Georgia.      All  the  black  cloth  in  the  stores  was 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       511 

bought  up  ;  the  pulpit  and  desks  of  the  church,  the  branches, 
the  organ  loft,  the  pews  of  the  governor  and  council,  were 
covered  with  black.  The  governor  and  council,  in  deep 
mourning,  convened  at  the  state-house,  and  went  in  procession 
to  church,  and  were  received  by  the  organ  playing  a  funeral 
dirge.  Two  funeral  sermons  were  preached  by  Mr.  Elling- 
ton and  Zubly."      Winter. 

Dr.  Gillies  has  quoted  largely  from  Ellington's  sermon. 
He  did  not  know  that  it  was  composed  by  Cornelius  Winter. 
"  I  was  desired  to  compose  it,"  says  Winter  :  and  he  does 
not  add,  that  he  declined  the  task.  I  therefore  conclude,  that 
he  was  the  real  author.  Indeed,  it  is  like  Winter  and  credit- 
able to  him,  so  far  as  the  sentiment  and  spirit  of  it  go.  And 
it  is  not  less  creditable  to  Ellington,  that  he  preached  the  ser- 
mon. Very  few  clergymen  would  have  consented  to  utter 
such  truths  at  that  time.  It  is  not  necessary  to  repeat  these 
truths  here.  It  is  enough  to  say,  that  they  were  a  transcript 
of  the  creed  and  heart  of  Cornelius  Winter ;  and  thus  they 
are  a  key  to  the  heart  of  Ellington.  There  is,  however,  one 
expression  in  the  sermon,  which  I  hesitate  to  interpret.  "  It 
is  well  known,"  Ellington  says,  "  that  Whitefield  had  oppor- 
tunity long  since  to  enjoy  episcopal  emolument."  Was  it, 
then,  more  than  a  jokk,  when  the  king  suggested  to  the  bench, 
that  they  "  might  stop  Whitefield's  preaching  by  making  a 
bishop  of  him  %  "  A  bishopric  was,  of  course,  out  of  the 
question  :  but  it  is  quite  certain,  that  he  might  have  had  what 
De  Courcy  calls  "  considerable  preferment,"  from  the  court, 
as  well  as  from  the  primate  of  Ireland. 

Dr.  Gillies  has  preserved  numerous  specimens  of  the  fu- 
neral sermons  preached  on  this  occasion,  in  England  and 
America  ;  and  I  could  add  to  them.  But  they  are  too  many 
to  be  recorded,  and  too  similar  to  be  distinguished.  Their 
similarity  is,  however,  their  most  instructive  and  interesting 
characteristic.  It  both  proves  and  illustrates  the  fact,  that 
Whitefield's  character  and  career  left  the  same  impression 
upon  ministers  of  different  churches,  and  men  of  dissimilar 
talents  and  temperament.  AVesley  and  Toplady  might  have 
written  their  sermons  at  the  same  desk,  and  compared  notes 
before  preaching  them.  Romaine  might  have  exchanged  pul- 
pits with  Dr.  Pemberton  of  Boston,  and  Venn  and  Newton 
with  Brewer  of  Stepney,  or  Dr.  Gibbons.  They  all  bear  the 
same  testimony,  and  breathe  the  same  spirit,  at  the  grave  of 
Whitefield. 


512      whitefield's    l'ife    and    times. 

It  was  not  Toplady,  but  Wesley,  that  said  of  him,  "  His 
fundamental  point  was,  Give  God  all  the  glory  of  whatever  is 
good  in  man  :  set  Christ  as  high,  and  man  as  low  as  possible, 
in  the  business  of  salvation.  All  merit  is  in  the  blood  of 
Christ,  and  all  power  in  and  from  the  Spirit  of  Christ."  It 
was  not  Wesley,  but  Toplady,  that  said,  "He  was  a  true  and 
faithful  son  of  the  church  of  England,  and  invincibly  asserted 
her  doctrines  to  the  last ;  and  that  not  in  a  merely  doctrinal 
way — though  he  was  a  most  excellent  systematic  divine  ;  but 
with  an  unction  of  power  from  God,  unequalled  in  the  present 
day."  It  was  not  a  Presbyterian,  but  Romaine,  that  said, 
"  Look  at  the  public  loss  !  Oh  what  has  the  church  suffered  in 
the  setting  of  that  bright  star,  which  had  shone  so  gloriously 
in  our  hemisphere  !  We  have  none  left  to  succeed  him  ;  none 
of  his  gifts  ;  none  any  thing  like  him  in  usefulness."  It  was 
not  a  Methodist,  but  Venn,  that  said,  "  We  are  warranted  to 
affirm,  that  scarce  any  one  of  (Christ's)  ministers,  since  the 
apostles'  days,  has  exceeded,  scarce  any  one  has  equalled, 
Whitefield.  For  such  a  life,  and  such  a  death,  though  in  tears 
under  our  loss,  we  must  thank  God.  We  must  rejoice — that 
millions  heard  him  so  long,  so  often,  and  to  so  much  good  ef- 
fect." It  was  not  a  dissenter,  but  John  Newton,  that  said, 
"  What  a  change  has  taken  place  throughout  the  land,  within 
little  more  than  thirty  years  !  The  doctrines  of  grace  were 
seldom  heard  from  the  pulpit,  and  the  life  and  power  of  reli- 
gion were  little  known.  And  how  much  of  this  change  (for 
the  better)  has  been  owing  to  God's  blessing  on  Whitefield's 
labours,  is  well  known  to  many  who  have  lived  through  this 
period,  and  can  hardly  be  denied  by  those  who  are  least  will- 
ing to  allow  it."  Thus  contemporary  churchmen  thought  and 
wrote  of  their  own  accord,  when  Whitefield  died  :  but  since 
they  died,  his  mighty  and  happy  influence  upon  the  church 
may,  it  seems,  "  be  controverted  !  "  It  may:  but  the  evange- 
lical clergy  should  remember,  that  they  themselves  are  consi- 
dered by  some  of  their  superiors,  as  proofs  of  the  mighty  in- 
fluence of  Whitefield  and  Wesley  upon  the  church.  Venn 
and  Sidney  forget,  that  the  anti-evangelical  party  ascribe  to 
Methodism  both  the  rise  and  progress  of  evangelical  religion 
in  the  church.  Thus  the  blind  see  clearly  what  some  of"  the 
children  of  light "  try  to  conceal. 

The  following  letter,  written  on  the  death  of  Whitefield, 
suits  my  limits  and  design  better  than  formal  extracts  from 
the  funeral  sermons.     I  do  not  know  who  was  the  author  of 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         513 

it ;  but  whoever  he  was,  it  will  be  responded  to  by  all  warm 
hearts. 

1771.  "A  great  man  is  fallen  in  our  Israel — the  Rev. 
Mr.  Whitefield  is  no  more  !  he  has  left  his  charge,  his  flock, 
and  gone  to  mansions  of  blessedness. 

"  I  may  safely  say,  a  great  man,  a  great  Christian,  a  hum- 
ble follower  of  the  divine  Redeemer,  and  a  zealous  defender 
of  the  doctrines  of  grace,  died,  when  Whitefield  closed  his 
eyes.  That  voice  which  was  lifted  up  like  a  trumpet,  and 
flew  around  the  sacred  roof,  proclaiming  salvation  through  the 
dying  Jesus,  teaching  a  sinful  world  the  Saviour's  name,  is 
now  lost  in  perpetual  silence  !  That  man,  whose  labours  in 
the  cause  of  God  have  been  more  abundant,  has  ceased  from 
his  work.  That  eminent  minister  of  the  New  Testament, 
that  son  of  thunder  to  the  careless  and  secure,  that  cheering 
son  of  consolation  to  the  weary  and  heavy  laden,  who  has 
been  distinguished  as  the  happy  instrument  of  bringing  stray- 
ed sheep  to  the  fold  of  God,  is  gone  to  experience  the  truth 
of  his  doctrines  ;  and  will  one  day  appear,  with  all  those  who 
have  been  savingly  brought  to  the  knowledge  of  Jesus  by  his 
means,  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  to  give  an  account  of  the 
ministry  he  received  from  him  ;  and  in  the  presence  of  a  sur- 
rounding world,  say,  '  Lord,  here  am  1,  and  the  children  thou 
hast  given  me.' 

"  It  is  an  afflictive,  awful,  and  alarming  providence  to  the 
church  of  God.  A  great  light  extinguished,  a  bright  star  set, 
and  a  numerous  people  deprived  of  their  pastor.  Who  shall 
supply  his  place  ?  Who  shall,  with  that  pathetic  language, 
strength  of  argument,  and  force  of  persuasion,  compel  sin- 
ners to  partake  of  the  gospel  feast  1  Who  shall  animate  our 
associations,  and  diffuse  a  spirit  of  candour,  charity,  and  mo- 
deration, throughout  our  assemblies  1  Who  shall  declare  the 
glories,  the  riches,  the  freeness,  the  fulness  of  that  complete 
salvation  which  Messiah  finished  1  Who  shall  exhort,  by  pre- 
cept and  example,  to  that  steady,  uniform,  constant  character, 
which  adorns  the  profession  of  the  gospel  ?  Who  shall  recom- 
mend a  life  of  fellowship  and  communion  with  the  Father, 
Son,  and  Spirit,  as  the  most  desirable  blessing,  and  build  up 
the  saints  in  their  most  holy  faith  1  Who  shall? — I  am  stopped 
by  the  mouth  of  him  who  says,  '  Shall  I  not  do  what  I  will 
with  my  own  ?  Is  it  not  my  prerogative  to  take  and  leave, 
as  seemeth  me  good  1  I  demand  the  liberty  of  disposing  my 
servants  at  my  own  pleasure.     He  hath  not  slept  as  others 


514  WHITEF  IELD'S     LIFE     AND    TIMES. 

do.  It  is  yours  to  wait  and  trust,  mine  to  dispose  and  go- 
vern. On  me  be  the  care  of  ministers  and  churches — with 
me  is  the  residue  of  the  Spirit — 1  set  my  labourers  to  work, 
and  when  I  please,  I  take  them  to  the  rest  I  have  appointed 
for  them.  My  power  is  not  diminished,  my  arm  not  shorten- 
ed, my  love  not  abated,  and  my  faithfulness  still  the  same.  I 
know  my  sheep,  and  they  shall  not  stray  into  forbidden  pas- 
tures, for  want  of  a  shepherd  to  feed  them  with  knowledge  and 
understanding.' 

"With  these  thoughts  my  passions  subside,  my  mind  is  soft- 
ened and  satisfied.  But  71010  for  the  wings  of  faith  and  di- 
vine contemplation,  to  view  him  among  the  celestial  throng, 
partaking  of  the  happiness,  sharing  the  joys  of  yonder  blissful 
regions — ascribing  salvation  to  Him  who  loved  and  washed 
him  in  his  blood — having  on  that  perfect  robe  of  immaculate 
righteousness,  wrought  out  by  the  dear  Redeemer — having  on 
his  head  a  crown  of  never-fading  glory,  and  palms  of  eternal 
victory  in  his  hands — drinking  at  the  fountain-head  of  bless- 
edness, and  refreshing  himself  continually  at  that  river  which 
flows  in  sweet  murmurs  from  the  right  hand  of  the  Majesty 
on  high — for  ever  out  of  the  reach  of  scandal  and  reproach — 
where  calumny  can  never  penetrate,  and  the  wicked  cease 
from  troubling — where  God,  even  his  own  God,  wipes  away 
all  tears  from  his  eyes — where  he  will  for  ever  bask  in  the 
boundless  fruition  of  eternal  love,  continually  receiving  out  of 
the  divine  fulness,  fresh  supplies  of  glory  for  glory,  from 
which  on  earth  he  had  communication  of  grace  for  grace — 
sees  the  King  in  his  beauty,  rejoices  in  the  beatific  vision, 
follows  the  Lamb  wheresoever  he  goes — and  with  those  who 
are  redeemed  from  among  men,  rests  in  the  closest  embraces 
of  his  Lord. 

'  And  now  his  voice  is  lost  in  death, 
Praise  will  employ  his  noblest  pow'rs, 

While  life,  or  thought,  or  being  last, 
Or  immortality  endures ! ' 

"  Here  we  must  take  our  leave  of  the  dear  departed  saint, 
till  the  happy  time  takes  place,  when  we  shall  put  off  this 
body,  and  enter  the  confines  of  unmolested  joy.  And  oh  !  in 
what  elevation  of  happiness,  and  refinement  of  felicity,  shall 
we  awake  up  in  the  likeness  and  express  image  of  that  God, 
who  has  loved  us,  and  called  us  with  a  holy  calling !  Yet  let 
us  be  persuaded  of  this,  that  when  the  important  period  com- 


whitefield's  life   and  times.  515 

mences,  when  the  surprising  signs,  and  descending  inhabi- 
tants of  heaven,  proclaim  the  second  coming  of  our  glorious 
Imrnanuel — when  the  heavens  open  and  disclose  his  radiant 
glory,  the  archangel's  trump  shall  sound,  the  Lord  himself 
descend  with  a  shout,  and  the  dead  in  Christ  arise  glorious 
and  immortal — leave  corruption,  weakness,  and  dishonour 
behind  them — we  shall  with  him,  and  all  the  ransomed  race, 
ascend  to  mansions  of  glory,  bliss,  and  immortality,  and  join 
that  universal  chorus  : — 

'Say,  Live  forever,  glorious  King! 

Born  to  redeem,  and  strong  to  save  : 
Then  ask  the  monster,  Where's  thy  sting? 

And  where's  thy  victory,  boasting  grave  ?' 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,  this  awful  dispensation  demands  a  suita- 
ble improvement.  The  death  of  ministers,  and  mankind  in 
general,  are  so  many  mementos  ; — « Be  ye  also  ready,'  is 
their  solemn  language.  Come  then,  0  my  soul,  examine 
with  impartiality  thy  state.  Nothing  but  an  interest  in  the 
perfectly  finished,  infinitely  glorious,  and  everlastingly  suffi- 
cient salvation  of  Jehovah  Jesus,  can  be  of  any  avail,  can  be 
any  real  ground  of  consolation,  when  the  grim  tyrant  stares 
thee  in  the  face.  May  thy  evidence  be  clear,  thy  faith  strong, 
and  thy  hope  on  tiptoe  ;  that  when  the  Bridegroom  comes, 
and  summons  thy  attendance,  thou  mayst  with  joy  answer, 
Lord,  I  come. 

"  Should  not  the  death  of  one  and  another  of  God's  people 
give  fresh  wings  to  our  souls,  make  life  less  pleasant,  and 
heaven  more  desirable — wean  our  affections  from  the  beggar- 
ly enjoyments  of  time  and  sense,  and  make  us  long  to  dwell 
where  Jesus  reveals  his  beauties,  glories,  and  matchless  ex- 
cellence, face  to  face  ?  Here  on  earth  we  have  some  faint 
glimmerings ;  and  oh  !  how  ought  we  to  prize  them,  as  they 
are  drops  from  the  ocean  !  but  the  ravishing  blaze  is  reserved 
for  the  upper  and  better  world. 

"  Though  our  interviews  in  the  church  militant  are  very 
sweet,  yet  they  are  very  short.  The  world's  ten  thousand 
baits,  the  devil's  ensnaring  wiles,  but  above  all,  the  flesh  with 
its  legions  of  corruptions,  enslave  the  soul,  and  deaden  our 
relish  for  divine  things.  O  happy  day !  O  blessed  hour ! 
when  Christ  shall  have  all  his  enemies  under  his  feet,  and 
death  itself  be  swallowed  up  of  life — when  we  shall  get  with- 


516        whitefield's    life    and    times. 

in  the  enclosures  of  the  New  Jerusalem,  and  go  out  no  more 
for  ever ! 

"  If  faithful  ministers  are  so  soon  removed  from  us,  how 
should  we  prize  them  while  we  have  them !  Oh  let  us  never 
give  ear  to,  much  less  be  the  means  of  promoting  the  malevo- 
lent whispers  of  slander ;  but  esteem  them  very  highly  in  love 
for  their  work's  sake  !  Should  it  not  be  our  constant  care,  and 
studious  concern,  through  divine  grace,  to  improve  by  every 
sermon  we  hear,  that  the  end  of  all  ordinances  may  be  ob- 
tained, even  an  increase  in  love  to  Jesus,  and  fellowship  with 
him  1  That  this  desirable  end  may  be  answered,  let  us  be 
earnest  and  frequent  in  our  address  to  the  throne  of  grace, 
for  ministers  and  people,  that  God  may  be  glorified  by  bring- 
ing home  sinners  to  himself,  and  in  the  edification  of  saints 
— that  each  stone  in  the  spiritual  fabric  may  be  edified  and 
built  up  upon  the  foundation,  Christ  Jesus,  till  the  top-stone 
is  brought  forth  with  shoutings,  Grace,  grace,  unto  it ! 

"  The  clock  strikes  twelve,  and  tells  me  to  conclude.  But 
how  can  I  do  it,  without  commending  you  to  that  God,  whose 
power  alone  is  able  to  keep  you  from  falling,  and  at  last  pre- 
sent you  faultless  before  the  presence  of  his  glory  with  ex- 
ceeding joy]  May  he  give  you  continual  assurances  of  his 
grace,  mercy,  and  love,  in  his  lower  courts,  thereby  making 
them  a  heaven  upon  earth;  and  cause  you  at  last  to  join  the 
general  assembly  and  church  of  the  first-born,  whose  names 
are  written  in  heaven.  This  is  the  hearty,  unfeigned,  and 
constant  prayer  of  him,  who  is,  with  great  esteem  and  affec- 
tion,"— 

The  following  eulogium  is  from  the  pen  of  Toplady.  "  I 
deem  myself  happy  in  having  an  opportunity  of  thus  publicly 
avowing  the  inexpressible  esteem  in  which  I  held  this  won- 
derful man;  and  the  affectionate  veneration  which  I  must  ever 
retain  for  the  memory  of  one,  whose  acquaintance  and  minis- 
try were  attended  with  the  most  important  spiritual  benefit  to 
me,  and  to  tens  of  thousands  beside. 

"  It  will  not  be  saying  too  much,  if  I  term  him,  The  apos- 
tle of  the  English  empire  ;  in  point  of  zeal  for  God,  a  long 
course  of  indefatigable  and  incessant  labours,  unparalleled 
disinterestedness,  and  astonishingly  extensive  usefulness. 

"  He  would  never  have  quitted  even  the  walls  of  the  church, 
had  not  either  the  ignorance,  or  the  malevolence,  of  some 
who  ought  to  have  known  better,  compelled  him  to  a  seem- 
ing separation. 


whitefield's   life  and   times.         517 

"  If  the  absolute  command  over  the  passions  of  immense 
auditories,  be  the  mark  of  a  consummate  orator,  he  was  the 
greatest  of  the  age.  If  the  strongest  good  sense,  the  most 
generous  expansions  of  heart,  the  most  artless  but  captivating 
affability,  the  most  liberal  exemptions  from  bigotry,  the  pur- 
est and  most  transpicuous  integrity,  the  brightest  cheerful- 
ness, and  the  promptest  wit,  enter  into  the  composition  of 
social  excellence,  he  was  one  of  the  best  companions  in  the 
world. 

"  If  to  be  steadfast,  immovable,  always  abounding  in  the 
works  of  the  Lord ;  if  a  union  of  the  most  brilliant  with  the 
most  solid  ministerial  gifts,  ballasted  by  a  deep  and  humbling 
experience  of  grace,  and  crowned  with  the  most  extended 
success  in  the  conversion  of  sinners,  and  edification  of  saints, 
be  signatures  of  a  commission  from  heaven,  George  White- 
field  cannot  but  stand  highest  on  the  modern  list  of  Christian 
ministers. 

"  England  has  had  the  honour  of  producing  the  greatest 
men,  in  almost  every  walk  of  useful  knowledge.  At  the 
head  of  these  are, —  Archbishop  Bradwardiv,  the  prince  of 
divines;  Milton,  the  prince  of  poets;  Newton,  the  prince 
of  philosophers  ;  Whitefield,  the  prince  of  preachers." 

Strong  as  this  language  is,  the  sober  statements  of  Corne- 
lius Winter  both  illustrate  and  justify  it.  I  therefore  shall 
quote  freely  from  them  in  the  next  chapter.  In  the  mean  time, 
I  add  only  his  opinion  of  Toplady's  compliment.  "  Whatever 
invidious  remarks  they  may  make  upon  his  written  discourses, 
they  cannot  invalidate  his  preaching.  Mr.  Toplady  called 
him  the  prince  of  preachers,  and  with  good  reason,  for  none 
in  our  day  preached  with  the  like  effect."     Jay's  Winter. 

Whitefield's  successors  were  very  unlike  himself,  except  in 
piety  and  sentiment;  and  yet  they  nobly  sustained  the  influ- 
ence of  both  the  Tabernacle  and  Tottenham  Court.  This 
was  certainly  the  more  easy,  because  the  stated  congrega- 
tions had  never  been  accustomed  to  enjoy  much  of  White- 
field's  presence  :  but  still,  it  was  an  arduous  task  to  succeed 
him.  Mr.  Wilks  was,  however,  quite  equal  to  that  task.  His 
wisdom  kept  the  flock  which  Whitefield's  eloquence  won. 
He  knew  the  way  to  the  understanding  and  the  conscience, 
just  as  well  as  Whitefield  knew  the  way  to  the  heart.  He 
could  dive  as  far  into  men,  as  Whitefield  could  draw  them 
out  of  themselves.  If  the  latter  could  rouse  or  melt  them, 
the  former  could  rivet  them.     If  Whitefield  made  them  feel, 

44 


518  whitefield's    life    and    times. 

Wilks  made  them  think.  Mr.  Hyatt  had  more  of  Whitefield's 
tremendous  energy.  He  had,  perhaps,  all  his  thunder,  al- 
though but  little  of  his  lightning  or  showers.  He  was,  how- 
ever, eminently  useful  in  the  conversion  of  sinners.  If  Wilks 
fed  the  flock,  Hyatt  guarded  and  augmented  it.  In  a  word, 
they  were  both  good  shepherds,  and  each  great  in  his  own 
way. 

The  body  of  Whitefield,  like  that  of  Moses,  although  not 
hid,  has  been  the  subject  of  sharp  contention,  and  has  called 
forth  some  "  railing  accusations."  In  1 190,  it  was  reported 
in  London,  *hat  "  the  body  was  entire  and  uncorrupted."  In 
1801,  Mr.  Mason  of  Newbury  Port  contradicted  this,  in  a 
letter  to  the  editor  of  the  Gospel  Magazine.  "  We  found  the 
flesh,"  he  says,  "  totally  consumed,"  although  "  the  gown, 
cassock,  and  bands,  with  which  he  was  buried,  were  almost 
the  same  as  if  just  put  into  the  coffin."  Until  this  contradic- 
tion appeared,  the  ignorant  welcomed  a  miracle  in  the  case  ; 
the  scientific  referred  it  to  antiputrescent  applications  ;  and 
the  jealous  charged  the  sexton  with  supplying  fresh  bodies 
from  time  to  time. 

The  facts  of  the  case  are  these  :  In  1784,  Mr.  Brown  of 
Epping  Forest  visited  Newbury  Port;  and  having  heard 
there  that  Whitefield's  "  body  was  entire,"  he  went  with  his 
wife  to  see  it.  "  A  lantern  and  candle  being  provided,  we 
descended  into  the  tomb.  Our  guide  led  me  to  dear  Mr. 
Whitefield's  coffin.  He  opened  the  lid  down  to  his  breast. 
I  never  felt  so  over  a  corpse !  His  body  was  perfect.  I  felt 
his  cheeks  and  his  breast :  the  skin  immediately  rose  after. 
Even  his  lips  were  not  consumed,  nor  his  nose.  He  did  not 
look  frightful  at  all.  His  skin  was  considerably  discoloured, 
blackish,  through  dust  and  age.  His  gown  was  not  much 
impaired,  nor  his  wig. 

11 1  turned  to  look  at  Mr.  Parsons,  who  died  seven  years 
after  him ;  but  there  was  only  a  promiscuous  show  of  bones, 
clean  and  dry. 

"  I  do  but  give  you  the  matter  of  fact.  I  am  well  assured 
the  body  of  Mr,  Whitefield  was  not  embalmed.  He  particu- 
larly ordered  it  should  not.  The  body  is  open  to  every  visi- 
tor."    lirown  s  Letter. 

This  looks  like  truth.  Dr.  Southey  also  has  quoted  from 
some  one,  whom  he  does  not  name,  the  following  words, 
"  One  of  the  preachers  told  me  the  body  of  W  hitefield  was 
not  yet  putrihed:    but  6everal  other  corpses  are  just  in  the 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       519 

same  state  at  Newbury  Port,  owing  to  the  vast  quantities  of 
nitre  with  which  the  earth  abounds  there."  This  is  quoted 
to  prove,  that  the  report  does  not  "  seem  to  have  originated 
in  any  intention  to  deceive."  Thus  there  was  evidently  much 
truth  in  it  in  1784;  whereas,  in  1796,  when  Mason  saw  the 
body,  it  might  be  equally  true  that  "  the  flesh  was  totally  con- 
sumed."    The  skull  is,  I  understand,  very  perfect  still. 

It  will  surprise  and  grieve  not  a  few  on  both  sides  of  the 
Atlantic,  when  I  tell  them  that  the  bones  of  Whitefield  are 
not  entire.  Part  of  his  right  arm  was  sent  to  this  country.  I 
hope  it  is  not  here  still.  If  I  thought  it  were  not  returned, 
I  should  feel  inclined  to  tell  the  American  ambassador  where 
to  find  it,  and  to  urge  him  to  demand  it  in  the  name  of  his 
country. 

About  two  years  ago,  a  visitor  in  London  invited  me  to  see 
"  a  curiosity,  sure  to  gratify  me."  He  mistook  my  taste. 
I  went,  and  he  placed  on  the  table  a  long  narrow  box,  defying 
me  to  guess  its  contents.  I  had  no  need  to  guess  or  hesitate. 
I  said,  "  It  contains  the  right  arm  of  George  Whitefield,  and 
I  could  name  both  the  thief  and  the  receiver.  I  have  known 
for  ten  years  that  it  was  in  your  possession:  but  my  organ  of 
veneration  is  larger  than  that  of  my  curiosity  ;  and,  therefore, 
I  never  hinted  at  my  knowledge,  although  I  have  often  visited 
you  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  and  seen  all  your  other  me- 
morials of  Whitefield,  and  reciprocated  all  your  other  feel- 
ings towards  him."  I  owe  it  to  my  friend  to  add,  if  the  relic 
be  still  in  England,  that  it  could  not  be  in  better  hands  than 
those  it  was  first  committed  to.  Still,  I  would,  if  I  could, 
give  "  commandment  concerning  the  bones,"  as  solemnly  and 
authoritatively  as  dying  Joseph.  One  thing  I  promise:  I 
will  conceal  the  name  of  the  spoiler,  (for  I  have  read  his  let- 
ter,) if  the  spoil  should  be  returned. 

The  following  inscription  was  copied  by  Dr.  Reed  from  the 
splendid  monument  erected  by  Mr.  Bartlett,  at  Newbury 
Port,  to  the  memory  of  Whitefield. 


520       whitefield's    life    and   times. 

THIS  CENOTAPH 
Is  erected,  will)  affectionate  Veneration, 

To  the  Memory  of 

The  Rev.  GEORGE  WHITEFIELD, 

Born  at  Gloucester,  England,  December  16,  1714, 

Educated  at  Oxford  University  ;    ordained  1736. 

In  a  Ministry  of  Thirty-four  Years, 

He  crossed  the  Atlantic  Thirteen  limes, 

And  preached  more  than  Eighteen  Thousand  Sermons. 

As  a  Soldier  of  the  Cross,  humble,  devout,  ardent, 

He  put  on  the  whole  Armour  of  God ; 

Preferring  the  Honour  of  Christ  to  his  own  Interest,  Repose, 

Reputation,  and  Life. 

As  a  Christian  Orator,  his  deep  Piety,  disinterested  Zeal,  and  vivid 

Imagination, 

Gave  unexampled  Energy  to  his  look,  utterance,  and  action. 

Bold,  fervent,  pungent,  and  popular  in  his  Eloquence, 

No  other  uninspired  man  ever  preached  to  so  large  assemblies, 

Or  enforced  the  simple  Truths  of  the  Gospel,  by  Motives 

So  persuasive  and  awful,  and  with  an  Influence  so  powerful, 

On  the  Hearts  of  his  Hearers. 

He  died  of  Asthma,  September  30,  1770, 

Suddenly  exchanging  his  Life  of  unparalleled  Labours 

For  his  Eternal  Rest. 

Reed  and  Matheson's  Visit. 


whitefield's  life   and  times.         521 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

whitefield's    characteristics. 

I  foresaw,  from  the  commencement  of  this  work,  that  I 
was  incapable  of  embodying  the  character  of  Whitefield,  at 
the  end,  in  a  form  which  would  satisfy  myself.  I  therefore 
kept  back  nothing  for  the  sake  of  final  effect ;  but  allowed 
him,  at  every  step,  to  appear  all  he  was  at  the  time  and  place. 
His  characteristics  have  thus  come  out  like  the  stars,  now 
one  by  one,  and  anon  in  constellations,  and  all  "  in  their  sea- 
son." In  this  form  they  have  kept  alive  my  own  interest  in 
both  his  Life  and  Times,  whilst  writing  these  pages  ;  and 
therefore  I  see  no  necessity,  and  feel  no  inclination,  to  try 
my  hand  at  a  formal  portrait.  Whitefield  paints  himself  upon 
every  eye  that  follows  him.  The  only  difficulty  felt  in  trying 
to  realize  this  mighty  angel  of  the  everlasting  gospel,  as  he 
flies  in  the  midst  of  heaven,  arises  from  the  figure  he  presents 
in  almost  all  the  portraits  which  have  accompanied  his  works 
hitherto.  Indeed,  until  I  saw  the  full-length  engravings  of 
him,  from  pictures  taken  when  he  was  in  his  prime,  I  found  it 
impossible  to  associate  with  his  form  (except  in  the  case  of 
his  uplifted  hands  and  eyes)  just  ideas  of  his  spirit.  This 
difficulty  is  now  removed,  and  by  no  stratagem.  The  por- 
trait in  this  volume  is  a  faithful  copy  (except  in  length  and 
scenery)  of  the  original  engraving,  taken  from  Russel's  pic- 
ture of  him,  as  he  appeared  in  Moorfields  in  all  his  glory. 

I  have  another  reason  for  not  trying  to  embody  the  whole 
character  of  Whitefield  :  it  would  present  an  inimitable  ex- 
ample ;  and  thus  defeat  one  great  purpose  I  had  in  writing 
his  life.  His  image  as  a  whole,  is  not  calculated  to  multiply 
itself.  Happily  this  is  not  the  fact  in  regard  to  some  fea- 
tures of  it.  Some  of  them,  like  queen  bees,  are  each  capa- 
ble of  producing  a  whole  hive.  Indeed,  it  is  impossible  that 
any  conscientious  minister  of  the  gospel  can  contemplate 
Wrhitefield  in  this  volume,  without  setting  himself  to  imitate 
him  in  something  ;  whereas  no  one  would  dream  of  even  try- 
ing to  imitate  him  in  all  things.    At  least,  I  never  saw  the  man 

44* 


522       whitefield's    life    and    times. 

who  could  be  a  second  Whitefield.  Rowland  Hill  was  not 
that.  Spencer,  from  all  I  could  learn  in  Liverpool,  during 
eleven  years'  occupation  of  his  pulpit,  seems  to  have  approach- 
ed nearest  to  the  pathos  and  fascination  of  Whitefield ;  but 
he  had  evidently  none  of  his  commanding  majesty. 

I  studied  Whitefield  until  I  understood  him  ;  and  therefore, 
I  have  instinctively  recognised  whatever  resembled  him,  in 
all  the  popular  preachers  of  my  time.  James,  of  Birming- 
ham, has  occasionally  reminded  me  of  his  alternate  bursts  of 
tenderness  and  terror,  in  all  but  their  rapidity  ;  Rowland  Hill 
of  his  off-hand  strokes  of  power  ;  and  Spring,  of  New-York, 
his  off-heart  unction,  when  it  fell,  like  dew,  copiously  and 
calmly.  Baptist  Noel  also  has  reminded  me  of  this.  Robert 
Newton  has  some  of  Whitefield's  oratory,  but  none  of  his  high 
passion.  Irving  had  nothing  of  him  but  his  voice.  Cooper, 
of  Dublin,  when  in  his  prime,  and  preaching  in  the  open  air, 
has  enabled  me  to  conceive  how  Whitefield  commanded  the 
multitude  in  Moorfields.  I  must  add, — although  I  shall  not 
be  generally  understood, — that  Williams  of  the  Wern,  and  my 
friend  Christmas  Evans,  of  Wales,  and  Billy  Dawson  of  York- 
shire, have  oftener  realized  Whitefield  to  me,  than  any  other 
preachers  of  my  time  :  and  yet  these  three  men  do  not  re- 
semble him,  nor  each  other,  in  mind  or  body  ;  but  they  can 
lose  themselves  entirely,  as  he  did,  in  tender  and  intense  love 
to  souls.  This  is  what  is  wanted  ;  and  it  will  tell  by  any 
voice  or  style,  and  from  any  eye  or  stature.  Rowland  Hill 
knew  and  loved  one  minister  in  Scotland — the  late  Cowie,  of 
Huntly — for  his  resemblance  to  Whitefield.  I  do  not  wonder 
at  this.  It  was  Whitefield's  likeness  to  Cowie,  that  first  won 
my  heart.  I  saw  in  the  busts,  and  read  in  the  books  of  George 
Whitefield,  the  express  image  of  George  Cowie,  the  pastor  of 
my  boyhood.  I  was  not  twelve  years  old  when  he  died  :  but 
the  majestic  music  of  his  voice  is  yet  in  my  ear,  and  the  an- 
gelic benevolence  of  his  countenance  yet  before  my  eye.  I 
could  weep  yet,  as  I  wept  when  I  did  not  understand  him. 
I  wept  often  then  because  he  was  bathed  in  tears  of  love.  I 
loved  him,  because  he  loved  me  for  my  father's  sake,  when 
my  father  died.  He  then  became  a  father  unto  me.  Whether 
he  bequeathed  me  to  Dr.  Philip  I  do  not  know  :  but  I  can 
never  forget  that  in  his  house,  Dr.  Philip  adopted  me.  This 
he  did  in  the  true  spirit  of  adoption  !  I  owe  every  thing  in 
early  life,  to  this.  Even  in  mature  life,  I  feel  the  benefit  of  it 
every  day. 


whitefield's  life  and  times.         523 

I  must  not  dismiss  this  reference  to  Cowie  yet.  It  will  help 
not  a  few  to  realize  Whitefield.  I  have  often  roused  the  venera- 
ble Rowland  Hill,  in  his  old  age,  from  absence  and  depression, 
when  he  was  not  likely  to  be  himself  in  the  pulpit,  or  on  the 
platform,  by  a  timely  reference  to  "  our  old  friend,  Mr. 
Cowie."  This  never  failed  to  quicken  him.  I  was,  to  him,  so 
associated  with  Huntly,  that  he  often  called  me  Mr.  Huntly  ! 
The  public  are  thus  indebted  to  me  for  not  a  few  of  Rowland 
Hill's  last  and  best  eulogiums  on  Whitefield.  He  had  seen 
him  personified  in  Cowie,  and  I  kept  the  image  before  the 
good  old  man,  whenever  I  met  him  in  public  or  private.  The 
secret  was  this.  The  chief  cause  of  Mr.  Cowie's  excommuni- 
cation from  the  anti-burghers,  was  his  co-operation  with  Mr. 
Hill,  and  itinerants  of  his  stamp  :  and  I  had  been  Mr.  Cowie's 
little  servant  on  the  day  he  defended  himself  before  the 
synod.  It  was  a  high  day  to  me,  until  I  found  him  con- 
demned. I  had  carried  from  his  library  to  the  top  of  his 
pulpit  stairs,  the  books  he  intended  to  quote  from  ;  and  hand- 
ed them  to  him  as  he  required  them.  It  was  a  long  defence  : 
but  I  felt  no  weariness,  although  I  did  not  understand  a  word 
of  its  real  merits  There  was  Latin  in  it — and  he  had  begun 
to  teach  me  Latin  ;  and  thus  I  expected  to  understand  the 
speech  some  day.  And  then  it  was  a  perfect  stream  of  elo- 
quence, flowing,  now  softly  as  the  Boggie,  and  anon  impetu- 
ously as  the  Dovern ;  the  rivers  which  encircle  Huntly.  I 
was  sure  that  nobody  could  answer  him  ;  and  so  vexed  when 
they  tried,  that  I  could  have  thrown  a  book  at  the  head  of  the 
moderator,  and  even  two  or  three  at  some  other  heads  of  the 
synod.  True  ;  this  was  worse  than  foolish  in  a  boy:  but  still, 
it  was  not  more  foolish  than  old  men  flinging  censures  at  the 
head  of  a  champion,  who  was  the  Whitefield  of  the  north.  At 
this  moment,  I  do  not  feel  that  I  was  the  greatest  sinner  in  that 
assembly. 

I  thus  allow  my  recollections  of  Cowie  to  revel  in  their  own 
vividness,  because  they  will  explain  what  I  have  ventured  to 
call  my  "  knowledge  of  Whitefield."  I  mean  that  I  met  in  the 
sermons  and  vein  of  Whitefield,  the  image  of  my  first  friend 
and  pastor ;  and  Rowland  Hill,  who  knew  both  parties,  at- 
tested the  likeness.  This  fact  must  be  my  apology  for  the 
many  instances  in  this  volume,  in  which  I  gossip  about  White- 
field,  as  if  I  had  been  brought  up  at  his  knee.  There  is  no 
affectation  in  this,  whatever  flippancy  it  may  have  betrayed  me 
into.     I  have  been  all  along  at  home,  because  in  company  with 


524        whitefield's  life   and  times. 

Cowie.  Besides,  only  a  character  which  speaks  for  itself 
belongs  to  biography  :  and  he  is  no  biographer  of  it,  who  does 
not  speak  in  its  own  style. 

I  have  often  heard  it  asked  and  argued,  whether  Whitefield 
would  be  popular  now,  were  he  alive  1  The  late  Dr.  Ryland 
used  to  maintain,  that  he  would  be  as  popular  as  ever!  The 
Doctor  was  right,  so  far  as  Whitefield's  manner  and  unction 
were  concerned.  Holy  energy  can  never  be  unpopular. 
Holy  daring  will  always  wield  the  multitude.  Natural  elo- 
quence will  find  an  echo  for  ever  in  the  human  heart,  however 
the  truth  it  utt(  rs  may  be  evaded  or  disliked.  All  ministers 
who  cannot  command  attention,  are  unnatural  in  something. 
Whitefield's  sermons,  however,  would  not  draw  out  the  same 
crowd,  nor  the  same  classes  now,  that  they  did  at  first.  His 
doctrine,  as  well  as  his  manner,  was  a  novelty  then,  even  in 
London,  to  the  multitude.  They  had  never  heard  of  regene- 
ration but  at  the  baptismal  font ;  and  that,  told  them  of  its 
beginning  and  completion,  in  the  same  breath. 

Too  little  importance,  however,  has  been  attached  to  White- 
field's  manner  of  preaching.  This  is  not  his  fault.  He 
made  no  secret  of  his  attention  to  delivery.  He  commended 
the  study  of  oratory  to  the  American  colleges,  and  provided 
for  it  at  Bethesda,  and  rebuked  the  neglect  of  it  at  Oxford. 
He  was  not  ashamed  to  quote  Sheridan's  lectures,  in  remon- 
strating with  Durell.  "  Sorry  am  I  to  find  so  true  what  a 
celebrated  orator  takes  the  liberty  of  saying  in  the  University 
of  Oxford,  if  I  mistake  not, — •  that  the  state  of  pulpit  elocu- 
tion in  general,  in  the  church  of  England,  is  such,  that  there 
never  was,  perhaps,  a  religious  sect  on  earth,  whose  hearts 
were  so  little  engaged  in  the  act  of  worship,  as  the  members 
of  that  church.  To  be  pleased,  we  must  feel ;  and  we  are 
pleased  with  feeling.  The  presbyterians  are  moved;  the 
Methodists  are  moved  ;  they  go  to  their  meetings  and  taber- 
nacles with  delight.  The  very  quakers  are  moved:  whilst 
much  the  greater  part  of  the  members  of  the  church  of  Eng- 
land are  either  banished  from  it  through  disgust,  or  reluc- 
tantly attend  the  service  as  a  disagreeable  duty.'  Thus  far 
Mr.  Sheridan." 

Whitefield  even  quotes  Betterton  the  player,  and  affirms 
that  the  stage  would  soon  be  deserted  if  the  actors  spoke  like 
preachers.  "  Mr.  Betterton's  answer  to  a  worthy  prelate  is 
worthy  of  lasting  regard.  When  aski.d  '  how  it  came  to  pass 
that  the  clergy,  who  spoke  of  things  real,  affected  the  people 


whitefield's  life   and   times.  525 

so  little,  and  the  players,  who  spoke  of  things  barely  imagin- 
ary, affected  them  so  much,'  he  said,  '  My  lord,  I  can  assign 
but  one  reason  ;  we  players  speak  of  things  imaginary  as 
though  they  were  real,  and  too  many  of  the  clergy  speak  of 
things  real  as  though  they  were  imaginary.'  Thus  it  was  in 
his,  and  all  know  it  is  too  much  the  case  in  our  time.  Hence 
it  is,  that  even  on  our  most  important  occasions,  the  worthy 
gentlemen  concerned  in  our  public  churches,  generally  find 
themselves  more  obliged  to  musicians  than  the  preachers  ; 
and  hence  it  is,  no  doubt,  that  upon  our  most  solemn  anniver- 
saries, after  long  previous  notice  has  been  given,  and  when 
some  even  of  our  lords  spiritual  do  preach,  perhaps  not  two 
lords  temporal  come  to  hear  them." — Letter  to  Durell. 

Whitefield's  own  maxim  was,  "to  preach  as  Apelles  paint- 
ed, for  eternity."  He  was  first  struck  with  this  maxim  at 
the  table  of  Archbishop  Boulter,  in  Ireland,  where  "the  great 
Dr.  Delany"  said  to  him,  "  I  wish,  whenever  I  go  up  into  a 
pulpit,  to  look  upon  it  as  the  last  time  I  shall  ever  preach, 
or  the  last  time  the  people  may  hear."  He  never  forgot  this. 
He  often  said,  "  Would  ministers  preach  for  eternity,  they 
would  then  act  the  part  of  true  Christian  orators,  and 
not  only  calmly  and  coolly  inform  the  understanding,  but 
by  persuasive,  pathetic  address,  endeavour  to  move  the  affec- 
tions and  warm  the  heart.  To  act  otherwise  bespeaks  a  sad 
ignorance  of  human  nature,  and  such  an  inexcusable  indolence 
and  indifference  in  the  preacher,  as  must  constrain  the  hear- 
ers to  suspect,  whether  they  will  or  not,  that  the  preacher,  let 
him  be  who  he  will, — only  deals  in  the  false  commerce  of  un- 
felt  truth." 

This  pointed  and  perpetual  reference  to  eternity  in  his 
preaching,  did  not  divert  Whitefield  from  a  due  regard  to 
time.  He  was  an  ardent  admirer,  if  not  imitator,  of  the  char- 
acter given  of  one  of  the  German  Reformers — •Bucolspherus, 
as  he  calls  him.  I  do  not  know  him,  unless  Bucholcerus,  the 
young  friend  of  Melancthon,  (Theat.  Vir.  Erud.)  be  referred 
to  ;  and  I  doubt  whether  it  could  be  said  of  him,  "Vividus 
vultus,  vividi  occuli,  vividce  manus,  denique  omnia  vivida." 
But  whoever  he  was,  Whitefield  recognised  a  living  exempli- 
fication of  him  in  some  of  the  Romish  priests  at  Lisbon.  I 
must  go  further,  and  say,  that  Whitefield  felt  it  his  duty  to 
obey  the  commands  given  to  some  of  the  prophets-~-to  smite 
with  the  hand,  stamp  with  the  foot,  and  lift  up  the  voice  like  a 
trumpet,  as  well  as  to  beseech  with  tears.     Winter  says  of 


526        whitefield's   life   and  times. 

him,  "his  freedom  in  the  use  of  his  passions  often  put  my 
pride  to  the  trial.  I  could  hardly  bear  such  unreserved  use 
of  tears,  and  the  scope  he  gave  to  his  feelings;  for  some- 
times he  exceedingly  wept,  stamped  loudly  and  passionately, 
and  was  frequently  so  overcome,  that  for  a  few  seconds,  you 
would  suspect  he  never  could  recover  ;  and  when  he  did,  na- 
ture required  some  little  time  to  compose  herself.  I  hardly 
ever  knew  him  go  through  a  sermon  without  weeping  more  or 
less,  and  I  truly  believe  his  tears  were  of  sincerity.  His 
voice  was  often  interrupted  by  his  affections;  and  I  have 
heard  him  say  in  the  pulpit, — '  You  blame  me  for  weeping  ; 
but  how  can  I  help  it,  when  you  will  not  weep  for  yourselves, 
although  your  immortal  souls  are  on  the  verge  of  destruction  ; 
and,  for  aught  I  know,  you  are  hearing  your  last  sermon,  and 
may  never  more  have  an  opportunity  to  have  Christ  offered 
to  you.' 

"  1  have  known  him  avail  himself  of  the  formality  of  the 
judge  putting  on  his  black  cap,  to  pronounce  sentence.  With 
his  eyes  full  of  tears,  and  his  heart  almost  too  big  to  admit  of 
speech,  he  would  say,  after  a  momentary  pause, — '  I  am  now 
going  to  put  on  my  condemning  cap.  Sinner,  I  must  do  it ! 
I  must  pronounce  sentence  ! '  Then,  in  a  strain  of  tremendous 
eloquence,  he  would  repeat  our  Lord's  words,  '  Depart,  ye 
cursed,'  and  not  without  a  very  powerful  description  of  the 
nature  of  that  curse.  But  it  was  only  by  hearing  him,  and  by 
beholding  his  attitude  and  tears,  that  a  person  could  well  con- 
ceive of  the  effect." 

It  deserves  special  notice  that  Whitefield,  whether  he 
stamped  or  wept,  whether  he  seemed  a  lion  or  lamb,  was  uni- 
formly solemn,  and  allowed  nothing  to  seem  at  variance  with 
his  deep  solemnity.  "  Nothing  awkward,  nothing  careless, 
appeared  about  him  in  the  pulpit,  nor  do  I  ever  recollect  his 
stumbling  on  a  word.  Whether  he  frowned  or  smiled,  wheth- 
er he  looked  grave  or  placid,  it  was  nature  acting  in  him." 
Winter.  This  care  over  his  words,  tones,  and  gestures,  sus- 
tained his  own  solemnity,  and  communicated  it  to  others. 
They  neither  saw  nor  heard  any  thing  to  weaken  the  impres- 
sion. There  was  no  levity  in  his  lively  sallies,  and  no  dul- 
ness  in  his  reasonings,  and  no  departure  from  the  spirit  of  his 
mission  even  when  he  used  "market  language."  He  made 
all  modes  of  address  bear  upon  solemn  effect.  For  this — 
"  every  accent  of  his  voice  spoke  to  the  ear ;  every  feature 
of  his  face,  every  motion  of  his  hands,  every  gesture,  spoke 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         527 

to  the  eye  ;  so  that  the  most  dissipated  and  thoughtless  found 
their  attention  involuntarily  fixed."  Gillies.  Even  when  he 
created  a  momentary  smile,  it  was  to  relieve  the  heart  from 
the  tension  of  an  ordinary  solemnity,  that  he  might  strain  it 
up  to  an  extraordinary  pitch. 

There  was   thus  much  art  in  Whitefield's  preaching :    I 
mean,  the  art  of  studying  to  be  perfectly  natural  in  all  things 
pertaining  to  real  life  and  godliness.     He  left  nothing  to  ac- 
cident that  he  could  regulate  by  care,  in  his  delivery.     Hence 
practised  speakers  and  shrewd  observers  could  tell  at  once, 
whenever  he  delivered  a  sermon  for  the  first  time.     Foote 
and  Garrick  maintained  that  his  oratory  was  not  at  its  full 
height,  until  he  had  repeated  a  discourse  forty  times.     Frank- 
lin says,  "  By  hearing  him  often,  I  came  to  distinguish  easily 
between  sermons  newly  composed,  and   those  he  had  preach- 
ed often  in  the  course  of  his  travels.     His  delivery  of  the  lat- 
ter was  so  improved  by  frequent  repetition,  that  every  accent, 
every  emphasis,  every  modulation  of  voice,  was  so  perfectly 
tuned  and  well  placed,  that,  ivithout  being  interested  in  the 
subject,  (Franklin-like,  alas!)   one  could  not  help  being  pleas- 
ed with  the  discourse  :  a  pleasure  of  much  the  same  kind  with 
that  received  from  an  excellent  piece  of  music."     Dr.  Sou- 
they  shows  that  he  understands  speaking  as  well  as  writing, 
by  his  remarks  on  Whitefield's  oratory. — "  It  was  a  great  ad- 
vantage, but  it  was  not  the  only  one,  nor  the  greatest,  which 
he  derived  from  repeating  his  discourses,  and  reciting  instead 
of  reading  them.     Had  they  been  delivered  from  a  written 
copy,"   (only  think  of  Whitefield  reading!)    "one   delivery 
would  have  been  like  the  last :  the  paper  would  have  operat- 
ed as  a  spell,  from  which  he  could  not  depart ; — invention 
sleeping,  while  the  utterance  followed  the  eye.     But  when  he 
had  nothing  before  him  except  the  audience  whom  he  was  ad- 
dressing, the  judgment  of  the  imagination,  as  well  as  the  me- 
mory, were  called  forth.     Those  parts  were  omitted  which 
had  been  felt  to  come  feebly  from  the  tongue,  and  fall  heavily 
on  the  ear ;  and  their  place  was  supplied  by  matter  newly  laid 
in  in  the  course  of  his  studies,  or  fresh  from  the  feeling  of 
the  moment.     They  who  lived  with  him  could  trace  him,  in 
his  sermons,  to  the  book  which  he  had  last  been  reading,  or 
the  subject  which  had  recently  taken  his  attention.     But  the 
salient  points  of  his  oratory  were  not  prepared  passages — they 
were  bursts  of  passion,  like  jets  of  a  Geyser,  when  the  spring 
is  in  full  play."     Southey's  Wesley. 


528         whitefield's   life   and   times. 

David  Hume  beheld  one  of  these  jets  of  the  Tabernacle- 
Geyser,  and   wondered,   despised,   and  perished  !    He  pro- 
nounced  Whitefield    the   most  ingenious   preacher  he  ever 
heard  ;   and  said,  it  was  worth  going  twenty  miles  to  hear  him. 
"  Once,  after  a  solemn  pause,  he  thus  addressed   his   audi- 
ence : — 'The    attendant  angel    is  just  about   to    leave    the 
threshold   of  this   sanctuary,   and  ascend  to    heaven.     And 
shall  he  ascend,  and  not  bear  with  him  the  news  of  one  sin- 
ner, among  all  this  multitude,  reclaimed  from  the  error  of  his 
ways  ? '  To  give  the  greater  effect  to  this  exclamation,  White- 
field  stamped  with  his  foot,  lifted  up  his  hands  and  eyes  to 
heaven,  and  cried  aloud,  •  Stop,  Gabriel,  stop,  ere  you  enter 
the  sacred  portals,  and  yet  carry  with  you  the  news  of  one 
sinner  converted  to  God.'  "     How  gladly  Gabriel  would  have 
carried  to  the  throne   the  news  of  Hume's  conversion,  and 
told  it  to  his  mother  in  her  mansion  of  glory  !    But  Gabriel 
did  not  report  Hume's  words  in  heaven,  although  they  were 
thus  complimentary — "This  address  was  accompanied  with 
such  animated  yet  natural  action,  that  it  surpassed  any  thing 
I  ever  saw  or  heard  in  any  other  preacher."     Dr.  Southey 
says,  that  this  "  flight  of  oratory  is  not  in  the  best  taste." 
Where  will  he  find  a  better  1    He  himself  has  quoted  worse 
from  Whitefield,  without  finding  fault.     But  on  a  question  of 
taste,  I  will  not  attempt  to  arbitrate  between  two  historians  of 
acknowledged   tact.      This  flight  of  oratory  will,  however, 
keep  itself  for  ever  on  all  the  wings  of  the  wind,  even  if  both 
judges  had  found  fault  with  it.     It  will  also  be  a  lasting  illus- 
tration of  the  "  odd  "  but  not  "  unapt  "  expression  of  the  ig- 
norant man,  who  said,  "  that  Whitefield  preached  like  a  lion; " 
"  no  unapt  notion,"  says  Dr.  Southey,  "of  the  force,  and  ve- 
hemence, and  passion  of  that  oratory  which  awed  the  hearers, 
and  made  them  tremble  like  Felix  before  the  apostle." 

Such  was  the  manner  of  the  preacher,  whose  spirit  has  spo- 
ken for  itself  throughout  all  this  volume  :  and  I  now  ask,  was 
that  spirit  ever  trammelled,  cooled,  or  carnalized,  by  White- 
field's  attention  to  the  graces  of  pulpit  eloquence  1  Did  the 
study  of  oratory  estrange  him  from  his  closet,  or  lessen  his 
dependence  on  the  Holy  Spirit,  or  divert  him  from  living  ha- 
bitually in  the  light  of  eternity  and  the  Divine  presence  '(  No 
man  ever  lived  nearer  to  God,  or  approached  nearer  to  the 
perfection  of  oratory.  He  was  too  devotional  to  be  cooled 
by  rules,  and  too  natural  to  be  spoiled  by  art,  and  too  much 
in  earnest  to  win  souls,  to  neglect  system.     He  "  sought  out 


whitefield's  life   and   times.         529 

acceptable  "  tones,  and  gestures,  and  looks,  as  well  as  "  ac- 
ceptable words."  Was  Whitefield  right?  Then  how  many, 
like  myself,  are  far  wrong  ?  Let  the  rising  ministry  take  warn- 
ing! Awkwardness  in  the  pulpit  is  a  sin — monotony  a  sin — 
dulness  a  sin — and  all  of  them  sins  against  the  welfare  of  im- 
mortal souls.  These,  be  it  ever  remembered,  invent  too 
many  excuses  already  for  evading  the  claims  of  the  gospel :  do 
not,  therefore,  place  yourself,  student,  among  their  reasons 
for  rejecting  it.  It  is  as  easy  to  be  graceful  in  gesture,  and 
natural  in  tone,  as  to  be  grammatical.  You  would  not  dare  to 
violate  grammar  :  dare  not  to  be  vulgar  or  vapid  in  manner. 
Your  spirituality  of  mind  is  too  low,  and  your  communion 
with  God  too  slight,  and  your  love  of  the  truth  too  cold,  if 
they  can  be  endangered  by  cultivating  an  eloquence  worthy  of 
the  pulpit. 

Whitefield's  manner  fascinated  all  ranks.  I  lately  visited 
one  of  his  converts  ;  now  a  pilgrim  of  nearly  a  century  ;  and 
a  poor  villager,  who  was  never  fifty  miles  from  home.  I  went 
to  see  whether  old  Father  Mead,  of  Chinnor,  in  Oxfordshire, 
could  recognise  Whitefield  in  one  of  my  old  prints.  To  my 
surprise  the  veteran  himself  was  not  unlike  the  portrait  Be- 
fore opening  it,  therefore,  I  asked  him  whether  he  remember- 
ed Whitefield's  person?  The  old  man  brightened  at  the  ques- 
tion, and  said,  *  Ay,  sure :  he  was  a  jolly,  brave  man ;  and 
what  a  look  he  had  when  he  put  out  his  right  hand  thus,  to  re- 
buke a  disturber,  as  tried  to  stop  him  under  the  pear-tree. 
The  man  had  been  very  threatening  and  noisy  :  but  he  could 
not  stand  the  look.  OfFhe  rode,  and  Whitefield  said,  There 
he  goes  :  empty  barrels  make  most  din."  Father  Mead  both 
smiled  and  wept,  as  the  vision  threw  him  unconsciously  into  the 
very  attitude  and  aspect  of  the  preacher.  I  then  asked  him, 
whether  he  ever  saw  Whitefield  now,  in  his  dreams.  He 
paused  as  if  struck  by  the  question.  At  length  he  said, 
"  No  ;  but  he  was  a  jolly,  brave  man,  and  sich  a  look  with 
him."  I  then  asked  if  he  had  ever  heard  any  preacher  since, 
that  reminded  him  of  Whitefield  ?  His  speaking  face  sparkled 
as  he  looked  to  his  oicn  pastor,  (who  was  with  me,)  and  said, 
"  Some  reminds  me  of  George."  Whitefield  seems  his  per- 
petual day-dream  ;  for,  although  almost  a  pauper,  he  has  not 
parted  with  the  books  which  Whitefield  wrote  or  edited.  I 
found  him  reading  one  of  them,  and  singing  of  "  mercy  and 
judgment." 

This  little  incident  will  do  more  than  illustrate  the  empha- 
45 


530      whitefield's    life    and    times. 

tic  hints  of  Cornelius  Winter.  He  characterizes  Whitefield'3 
orator)',  as  we  have  seen,  with  great  success  ;  as  the  follow- 
ing specimens  will  still  further  prove. 

"As  though  it  were  no  difficult  matter  to  catch  the  sound 
of  the  Saviour  praying,  he  would  exclaim,  '  Hark!  hark!  do 
not  you  hear  him?' — You  may  suppose  that  as  this  occurred 
frequently,  the  efficacy  of  it  was  destroyed;  but,  no  ;  though 
we  often  knew  what  was  coming,  it  was  as  new  to  us  as 
though  we  had  never  heard  it  before. 

44  That  beautiful  apostrophe,  used  by  the  prophet  Jere- 
miah, 4  O  earth,  earth,  earth,  hear  the  words  of  the  Lords' 
was  very  subservient  to  him,  and  never  used  impertinently. 

"  He  abounded  with  anecdotes,  which,  though  not  always 
recited  verbatim,  were  very  just,  as  to  the  matter  of  them. 
One,  for  instance,  I  remember,  tending  to  illustrate  the  effi- 
cacy of  prayer,  though  I  have  not  been  able  to  meet  with  it  in 
the  English  history — it  was  the  case  of  the  London  appren- 
tices before  Henry  VIII.  pleading  his  pardon  of  their  insur- 
rection. The  monarch  moved  by  their  sight,  and  their  plea, 
4  Mercy!  mercy! '  cried,  '  Take  them  away,  I  cannot  bear  it.' 
The  application  you  may  suppose  was,  that  if  an  earthly  mon- 
arch of  Henry's  description  could  be  so  moved,  how  forcible 
is  the  sinner's  plea  in  the  ears  of  Jesus  Christ !  The  case  of 
two  Scotchmen,  in  the  convulsion  of  the  state  at  the  time  of 
Charles  II.  subserved  his  design  ;  who,  unavoidably  obliged 
to  pass  some  of  the  troops,  were  conceiving  of  their  danger, 
and  meditating  what  method  was  to  be  adopted,  to  come  off 
safe  :  one  proposed  the  wearing  of  a  scull-cap  ;  the  other, 
supposing  that  would  imply  distrust  of  the  providence  of  God, 
was  determined  to  proceed  bare-headed.  The  latter,  being 
the  first  laid  hold  of,  and  being  interrogated,  '  Are  you  for 
the  covenant  ?  '  replied,  '  Yes  ; '  and  being  further  asked, 
4  What  covenant  1 '  answered,  '  The  covenant  of  grace  ;'  by 
which  reply,  eluding  further  inquiry,  he  was  let  pass  :  the 
other,  not  answering  satisfactorily,  received  a  blow  with  the 
sabre,  which,  penetrating  through  the  cap,  struck  him  dead. 
In  the  application,  Mr.  Whitefield,  warning  against  vain  con- 
fidence, cried,  '  Beware  of  your  scull-caps.'  But  here  like- 
wise the  description  upon  paper,  wanting  the  reality  as  exem- 
plified by  him  with  voice  and  motion,  conveys  but  a  very  faint 
idea.  However,  it  is  a  disadvantage  which  must  be  submit- 
ted to,  especially  as  coming  from  my  pen. 

44  The  difference  of  the  times  in  which  Mr.  Whitefield  made 


whitefield's  life  and  times.         531 

his  public  appearance,  materially  determined  the  matter  of 
his  sermons,  and,  in  some  measure,  the  manner  of  his  ad- 
dress. He  dealt  far  more  in  the  explanatory  and  doctrinal 
mode  of  preaching  on  a  Sabbath-day  morning,  than  perhaps 
at  any  other  time  ;  and  sometimes  made  a  little,  but  by  no 
means  improper,  show  of  learning.  If  he  had  read  upon  as- 
tronomy in  the  course  of  the  week,  you  would  be  sure  to  dis- 
cover it.  He  knew  how  to  convert  the  centripetal  motion  of 
the  heavenly  bodies  to  the  disposition  of  the  Christian  toward 
Christ,  and  the  fatal  attraction  of  the  world  would  be  very 
properly  represented  by  a  reference  to  the  centrifugal.  What- 
ever the  world  might  think  of  him,  he  had  his  charms  for  the 
learned  as  well  as  for  the  unlearned  ;  and  as  he  held  himself  to 
be  a  debtor  both  to  the  wise  and  to  the  unwise,  each  received 
his  due  at  such  times.  The  peer  and  the  peasant  alike  went 
away  satisfied. 

H  As  though  he  heard  the  voice  of  God  ever  sounding  in 
his  ears  the  important  admonition,  '  Work  while  it  is  called 
to-day,'  this  was  his  work  in  London  at  one  period  of  his 
life  : — -xifter  administering  the  Lord's  supper  to  several  hun- 
dred communicants,  at  half  an  hour  after  six  in  the  morning; 
reading  the  first  and  second  service  in  the  desk,  which  he  did 
with  the  greatest  propriety,  and  preaching  full  an  hour,  he 
read  prayers  and  preached  in  the  afternoon,  previous  to  the 
evening  service,  at  half  an  hour  after  five  ;  and  afterwards 
addressed  a  large  society  in  public.  His  afternoon  sermon 
used  to  be  more  general  and  exhortatory.  In  the  evening  he 
drew  his  bow  at  a  venture,  vindicated  the  doctrines  of  grace, 
fenced  them  with  articles  and  homilies,  referred  to  the  mar- 
tyrs' zeal,  and  exemplified  the  power  of  divine  grace  in  their 
sufferings,  by  quotations  from  the  venerable  Fox.  Sinners 
were  then  closely  plied,  numbers  of  whom  from  curiosity 
coming  to  hear  a  sentence  or  two,  were  often  compelled  to 
hear  the  whole  sermon.  How  many  in  the  judgment  day 
will  rise  to  prove  that  they  heard  to  the  salvation  of  the  soul ! 

w  Perhaps  Mr.  Whitefield  never  preached  greater  sermons 
than  at  six  in  the  morning,  for  at  that  hour  he  did  preach, 
winter  and  summer,  on  Mondays,  Tuesdays,  Wednesdays, 
and  Thursdays.  At  these  times  his  congregations  were  of 
the  select  description,  and  young  men  received  admoni- 
tions similar  with  what  were  given  in  the  society  ;  *  and  were 

*  This  society,  consisting  of  several  hundreds  of  widows,  married  peo- 
ple, young  men,  and  spinsters,  placed  separately  in  the  area  of  the  Taber- 


532         whitefield's    life    and    times. 

cautioned,  while  they  neglect  the  duty  required  from  them 
under  the  bond  of  an  indenture,  not  to  anticipate  the  pleasures 
and  advantages  of  future  life. 

"  His  style  was  now  colloquial,  with  little  use  of  motion; 
pertinent  expositions,  with  suitable  remarks  ;  and  all  com- 
prehended within  the  hour.  Christian  experience  principally 
made  the  subject  of  Monday,  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  and 
Thursday  evening  lectures  ;  when,  frequently  having  funeral 
sermons  to  preach,  the  character  and  experience  of  the  dead 
helped  to  elucidate  the  subject,  led  to  press  diligence  in  the 
Christian  course,  to  reflect  upon  the  blessing  of  faith  on  earth, 
and  glory  in  heaven.  Mr.  Whitefield  adopted  the  custom  of 
the  inhabitants  of  New  England  in  their  best  days,  of  begin- 
ning the  Sabbath  at  six  o'clock  on  Saturday  evenings.  The 
custom  could  not  be  observed  by  many,  but  it  was  convenient 
to  a  few — a  few  compared  with  the  multitudes,  but  abstract- 
edly considered,  a  large  and  respectable  company.  JNow 
ministers  of  every  description  found  a  peculiar  pleasure  in 
relaxing  their  minds  from  the  fatigues  of  study,  and  were 
highly  entertained  by  his  peculiarly  excellent  subjects,  which 
were  so  suitable  to  the  auditory,  that  I  believe  it  was  seldom 
disappointed.  It  was  an  opportunity  peculiarly  suited  to 
apprentices  and  journeymen  in  some  businesses,  which  allow- 
ed of  their  leaving  work  sooner  than  on  other  days,  and  avail- 
ing themselves  at  least  of  the  sermon  ;  from  which  1  also  oc- 
casionally obtained  many  blessings.  Had  my  memory  been 
retentive,  and  had  I  studiously  treasured  up  his  rich  remarks, 
how  much  more  easily  might  I  have  met  your  wishes,  and 
have  answered  the  design  of  this  letter !  But  though  I  have 
lost  much  of  the  letter  of  his  sermons,  the  savour  of  them  yet 
remains.  The  peculiar  talents  he  possessed,  subservient  to 
great  usefulness,  can  be  but  faintly  guessed  from  his  sermons 
in  print ;  though,  as  formerly  God  has  made  the  reading  of 
them  useful,  I  have  no  doubt  but  in  future  they  will  have 
their  use.  The  eighteen  taken  in  short-hand,  and  faithfully 
transcribed,  by  Mr.  Gurney,  have  been  supposed  to  do  dis- 
credit to  his  memory,  and  therefore  they  were   suppressed. 

nacle,  used  after  sermon  to  receive  from  Mr.  Whitefield,  in  the  colloquial 
style,  various  exhortations  comprised  in  short  sentences,  and  suitable  to 
their  various  stations.  The  practice  of  Christianity  in  all  its  buuichcs, 
was  then  usually  inculcated,  not  without  some  pertinent  anecdote  of  a 
character  worthy  to  be  held  up  for  an  example,  and  in  whose  conduct  the 
hints  recommended  were  exemplified. 


whitefield's    life   and    times.       533 

But  they  who  have  been  accustomed  to  hear  him,  may  collect 
from  them  much  of  his  genuine  preaching.  They  were  far 
from  being  the  best  specimens  that  might  have  been  produc- 
ed. He  preached  many  of  them,  when,  in  fact,  he  was  al- 
most incapable  of  preaching  at  all."      Winter. 

After  all,  the  grand  secret  of  Whitefield's  power  was,  as 
we  have  seen  and  felt,  his  devotional  spirit.  Had  he  been 
less  prayerful,  he  would  have  been  less  powerful.  He  was 
the  prince  of  preachers  icithout  the  veil,  because  he  was  a 
Jacob  "  within  the  veil."  His  face  shone  when  he  came 
down  from  the  mount,  because  he  had  been  long  alone  with 
God  upon  the  mount.  It  was  this  won  for  him  the  title  se- 
raphic  :  not  in  the  scholastic,  but  in  the  angelic  sense  of  the 
term.  But  he  was  a  human  seraph  ;  and  thus  burnt  out  in  the 
blaze  of  his  own  fire.  What  then  ? — he  often  ascended  in  it, 
as  the  Angel  of  the  covenant  did  in  the  flame  of  Manoah's 
sacrifice  ;  and  always  "  did  wondrously"  when  he  descended. 
He  was  so  often  at  the  throne,  and  always  so  near  it,  that, 
like  the  apocalyptic  angel,  he  came  down  "  clothed  with  its 
rainbow." 

Whitefield's  Letters  also  illustrate  both  his  character  and 
success,  as  a  minister.  They  are  many,  and  varied,  and 
easy  ;  and  must  have  been  very  useful.  Like  the  bulletins 
of  a  general,  they  were  chiefly  written  on  the  field  of  battle ; 
and  thus  came  to  his  friends  associated  and  enshrined  with 
his  victories.  No  matter,  therefore,  what  they  are  as  epis- 
tolary writing  ;  they  came  from  "  the  conquering  hero  "  of 
the  day,  to  those  who  were  praying  for  and  expecting  him  to 
go  on  from  conquering  to  conquer.  How  gratifying!  yea, 
how  inspiring,  therefore,  the  briefest  and  baldest  of  them  must 
have  been,  as  well  as  the  longest  and  best,  to  those  who  re- 
ceived them  !  They  were  all  proofs  to  them,  that  he  had  them 
in  his  heart,  and  that  his  solicitude  and  friendship  for  them 
followed  him,  like  his  shadow,  wherever  he  went,  and  what- 
ever he  was  doing.  This  is  the  true  light  in  which  to  read 
his  letters  :  and  in  this  light  the  wonder  is,  that  they  are  so 
many  and  so  good  !  The  man  is  to  be  pitied  who  can  criticise 
them  ;  and  so  is  he  who  can  read  them  without  being  refresh- 
ed by  them  ;  for  they  are  only  surpassed  by  Luke's  '*  Acts 
of  the  Apostles." 

Whitefield's  public  character  was  fully  sustained  by  his 
private  habits.  His  vein  of  humour  never  betrayed  him  into 
levity,  nor  his  exhaustion  into  excess,  at  the  social  or  the  do«? 

45* 


534        whitefield's  life   and  times. 

raestic  table.  He  sat  down  often,  of  course,  to  sumptuous 
tables,  whilst  travelling.  Indeed,  he  could  not  avoid  a  suc- 
cession of  such  feasts.  Enemies,  however,  judged  of  his 
eating  by  the  scale  of  cooking  in  the  houses  of  his  hosts.  His 
corpulency  was  thus  ascribed  to  "good  living."  This  needs 
no  refutation,  to  any  one  who  understands  public  speaking. 
Indulgence  is  incompatible  with  unction,  if  not  with  energy 
also.  Cornelius  Winter  has  thought  proper,  however,  to  de- 
fend Whitefield  ;  and,  therefore,  it  is  my  duty  to  quote  the 
defence  : — "  He  was  unjustly  charged  with  being  given  to 
appetite.  His  table  was  never  spread  with  variety.  A  cow- 
heel  was  his  favourite  dish  ;  and  I  have  known  him  say 
cheerfully,  '  How  surprised  would  the  world  be  if  they  were 
to  peep  upon  Dr.  Squintum,  and  see  only  a  cow-heel  upon 
his  table  !  '  He  was,  however,  a  gentleman  ;  and,  therefore, 
"  whether  by  himself,  or  having  but  a  second,  his  table  must 
be  elegantly  spread,  though  it  produced  but  a  loaf  and  a 
cheese."  Gillies  says,  "  He  was  remarkable,  even  to  a  pro- 
verb, for  moderation  in  eating  and  drinking." 

This  wise  attention  to  etiquette  he  carried  into  all  his  habits. 
It  was  a  maxim  with  him,  that  a  minister  should  be  literally 
spotless.  "  He  was  neat  in  the  extreme  in  his  person  and 
every  thing  about  him.  He  said,  he  did  not  think  he  could 
die  easy,  if  he  thought  his  gloves  were  out  of  their  place. 
Not  a  paper  might  be  out  of  its  place,  or  put  up  irregularly. 
Each  part  of  the  furniture  also  must  be  in  its  place  before  we 
retired  to  rest.  There  was  no  rest  after  four  in  the  morning, 
nor  sitting  up  after  ten  in  the  evening.  He  was  scrupulously 
exact  to  break  up  parties  in  time.  In  the  height  of  a  conver- 
sation I  have  heard  him  say,  abruptly,  '  We  forget  ourselves  : 
come,  gentlemen,  it  is  high  time  for  all  good  folks  to  be  at 
home  '  "     Jay's  Winter. 

Gillies,  who  knew  him  in  his  prime,  says,  "  His  person 
was  graceful  and  well  proportioned — his  stature  above  the 
middle  size — his  complexion  very  fair — his  countenance 
manly.  His  eyes  were  of  a  dark  blue  and  very  sprightly. 
He  had  a  squint  with  one  of  them.  His  deportment  was 
decent  and  easy,  without  the  least  stiffness  or  formality  ;  and 
his  engaging  polite  manner  made  his  company  universally 
agreeable." 

Whitefield's  last  will,  also,  deserves  a  place  amongst  his 
characteristics.  It  was  brought  from  America  to  England, 
by  Winter.     He  felt  it  to  be  a  sacred  trust ;   for,  during  a 


whitefield's  life  and  times.        535 

storm,  in  which  all  the  sails  were  blown  away,  and  all  the 
masts  bending,  and  all  the  dead  lights  up,  his  chief  earhly 
"concern  was,  mat  he  had  Whitefield's  will!"  "I  felt 
sorry,"  he  says,  "  that  by  my  being  lost,  his  executors  would 
be  kept  in  suspense."  Both  arrived  safe  ;  but  the  chief  proper- 
ty, Bethesda,  was  soon  destroyed  or  alienated.  It  was,  I  think, 
Berridge  who  said,  on  hearing  of  the  extinction  of  the  orphan- 
house  college,  that  "  (Jod  set  fire  to  it,  in  order  to  save 
the  founder  from  becoming  the  father  of  a  race  of  unconverted 
ministers."  This  is  a  just  view  of  its  fate  :  for,  by  admitting 
young  men  to  study  for  the  ministry,  before  their  piety  or  call 
was  ascertained,  it  was  both  unfit  and  unworthy  to  be  a  nur- 
sery to  the  church  of  Christ. 

The  following  are  the  documents  published  by  the  execu- 
tors : — "  Mr.  Whitefield's  executors  having  received  the 
probate  of  his  will,  February  6,  1771,  Mr.  Keene,  who  was 
well  acquainted  with  the  whole  of  his  affairs,  published  it  with 
the  following  introduction  : — 

"  As  we  make  no  doubt  the  numerous  friends  of  the  Rev. 
Mr.  George  Whitefield  will  be  glad  of  an  opportunity  of  see- 
ing a  genuine  copy  of  his  last  will  and  testament,  his  executors 
have  favoured  us  with  a  copy  of  the  same,  transmitted  to 
them  from  the  orphan-house,  in  Georgia,  and  which  they  have 
proved  in  the  Prerogative  Court  of  Canterbury.  And  as  it 
was  Mr.  Whitefield's  constant  declaration,  he  never  meant  to 
raise  either  a  purse  or  a  party,  it  is  to  be  remarked,  that  al- 
most the  whole  sum  he  died  possessed  of,  came  to  him  within 
two  or  three  years  of  his  death,  in  the  following  manner, 
viz : — Mrs.  Thompson,  of  Tower-hill,  bequeathed  him 
500/.  : — by  the  death  of  his  wife,  (including  a  bond  of 
300/..)  he  got  700/.  ;— Mr.  Whitmore  bequeathed  him  100/.  ; 
— and  Mr.  Winder,  100/.  And  it  is  highly  probable,  that,  had 
he  lived  to  reach  Georgia,  from  his  last  northern  tour,  he 
would  have  lessened  the  above  sums,  by  disposing  of  them 
in  the  same  noble  and  disinterested  manner,  that  all  the  pub- 
lic or  private  sums  he  has  been  entrusted  with  have  been." 

"  In  the  name  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  three 
persons,  but  one  God  :  I,  George  Whitefield,  clerk,  at  pre- 
sent residing  at  the  orphan-house  academy,  in  the  province  of 
Georgia,  in  North  America,  being,  through  infinite  mercy,  in 
more  than  ordinary  bodily  health,  and  a  perfectly  sound  and 
composed  mind,  knowing  the  certainty  of  death,  and  yet  the 
uncertainty  of  the  time  I  shall  be  called  by  it  to  my  long- 


530        whitefield's   life    and    times. 

wished-for  home,  do  make  this  my  last  will  and  testament,  in 
manner  and  form  following,  viz  : — 

"  Imprimis — In  sure  and  certain  hope  of  a  resurrection  to 
eternal  life,  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  I  commit  my  body 
to  the  dust,  to  be  buried  in  the  most  plain  and  decent  manner; 
and,  knowing  in  whom  I  have  believed,  being  persuaded  that 
he  will   keep  that  which  I  have  committed   unto  him,  in  the 
fullest  assurance  of  faith  I  commend  my  soul  into  the  hands 
of  the  ever-loving,  altogether-lovely,  never-failing  Jesus,  on 
whose  complete  and  everlasting  righteousness  I  entirely  de- 
pend for  the  justification  of  my  person,  and  acceptance  of  my 
poor,  worthless,  though  I  trust,  sincere  performances,  at  that 
day  when  he  shall  come  in  the  glory  of  his  Father,  his  own 
glory,  and  the  glory  of  his    holy  angels,  to  judge  both  the 
quick  and  dead.     In  respect  to  my  American  concerns,  which 
I  have  engaged  in  simply  and  solely  for  his  great  name's  sake, 
I  leave  that  building  commonly  called   the   orphan-house,   at 
Bethesda,   in  the  province  of  Georgia,  together  with  all  the 
other  buildings  lately  erected  thereon  ;  and  likewise  all  other 
buildings,  lands,   negroes,  books,  furniture,  and  every  other 
thing   whatsoever   which  I  now   stand   possessed   of  in  the 
province  of  Georgia,  aforesaid,  to  that  elect  lady,  that  mother 
in  Israel,  that  mirror  of  true  and  undefiled  religion,  the  Right 
Honourable  Selina,  Countess  dowager  of  Huntingdon  :  de- 
siring, that    as  soon  as  may  be  after  my  decease,  the   plan 
of  the  intended   orphan-house,    Bethesda    college,   may   be 
prosecuted,  if  not  practicable,  or  eligible,  to  pursue  the  present 
plan  of  the  orphan-house  academy,  on  its  old  foundation  and 
usual  channel ;  but,  if  her  ladyship  should  be  called  to  enter 
her  glorious  rest  before  my  decease — I  bequeath  all  the  build- 
ings, lands,  negroes,  and  every  thing  before  mentioned,  which 
I  now  stand  possessed  of  in  the  province  of  Georgia  afore- 
said, to  my  dear  fellow-traveller  and  faithful,  invariable  friend, 
the  Honourable  James  Habersham,  president  of  His  Majes- 
ty's Honourable  Council  :   and  should  he  survive   her  lady- 
ship, I  earnestly  recommend  him  as  the  most  proper  per- 
son to  succeed  her  ladyship,  or  to  act  for  her  during  her  lady- 
ship's life-time,  in  the  orphan-house  academy. — With  regard 
to  my  outward  affairs  in  England  ;   whereas,  there  is  a  build- 
ing,  commonly  called  the  Tabernacle,  set  apart  many  years 
ago  for  divine  worship — I  give  and  bequeath  the  said  Taber- 
nacle, with  the  adjacent  house,  in  which  I  usually  reside  when 
in  London,  with  the  stable  and  coach-house  in  the  yard  ad- 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        537 

joining,  together  with  all  books,  furniture,  and  every  thing  else 
whatsoever,  thatshall  be  found  in  the  house  and  premises  afore- 
said ;  and  also  the  building  commonly  called  Tottenham 
Court  chapel,  together  with  all  the  other  buildings,  houses, 
stable,  coach-house,  and  every  thing  else  whatsoever,  which  I 
stand  possessed  of  in  that  part  of  the  town,  to  my  worthy, 
trusty,  tried  friends,  Daniel  West,  Esq.  in  Church-street, 
Spitalfields,  and  Mr.  Robert  Keene,  woollen  draper,  in  the 
Minories,  or  the  longer  survivor  of  the  two.  As  to  the  moneys, 
which  a  kind  Providence,  especially  of  late,  in  a  most  unex- 
pected way  and  un-thought  of  means,  hath  vouchsafed  to  in- 
trust me  with — I  give  and  bequeath  the  sum  of  100/.  ster- 
ling to  the  Right  Honourable  the  Countess  dowager  of  Hun- 
tingdon aforesaid,  humbly  beseeching  her  ladyship's  accept- 
ance of  so  small  a  mite,  as  a  pepper-corn  acknowledgment, 
for  the  undeserved,  unsought- for  honour  her  ladyship  conferred 
upon  me,  in  appointing  me,  less  than  the  least  of  all,  to  be  one 
of  her  ladyship's  domestic  chaplains. 

"Item — I  give  and  bequeath  to  my  dearly  beloved  friend 
the  Honourable  James  Habersham  aforesaid,  my  late  wife's 
gold  watch,  and  10/.  for  mourning ; — to  my  dear  old  friend, 
Gabriel  Harris,  Esq.  of  the  city  of  Gloucester,  who  received 
and  boarded  me  in  his  house,  when  I  was  helpless  and  desti- 
tute, above  thirty-five  years  ago,  I  give  and  bequeath  the  sum 
of  50/. ; — to  my  humble,  faithful  servant  and  friend,  Mr.  Am- 
brose Wright,  if  in  my  service  and  employ,  either  in  England 
or  America,  or  elsewhere,  at  the  time  of  my  decease,  I  give 
and  bequeath  the  sum  of  500/. ; — to  my  brother,  Mr.  Thomas 
Whitefield,  I  give  and  bequeath  the  sum  of  50/.,  to  be  given 
him  at  the  discretion  of  Mr.  Robert  Keene  ; — to  my  brother- 
in-law,  Mr.  James  Smith,  hosier,  in  the  city  of  Bristol,  I  give 
and  bequeath  the  sum  of  50/.,  and  30/.  also  for  family  mourn- 
ing ; — to  my  niece,  Mrs.  Frances  Hartford,  of  Bath,  I  give 
and  bequeath  the  sum  of  50/.,  and  20/.  for  family  mourning  ; 
— to  Mr.  J.  Crane,  now  a  faithful  steward  at  the  orphan- 
house  academy,  I  give  and  bequeath  the  sum  of  40/. ; — to 
Mr.  Benjamin  Stirk,  as  an  acknowledgment  of  his  past  ser- 
vices at  Bethesda,  I  give  and  bequeath  the  sum  of  10/.,  for 
mourning  ; — to  Peter  Edwards,  now  at  the  orphan-house  aca- 
demy, I  give  and  bequeath  the  sum  of  50/.  ; — to  William 
Trigg,  at  the  same  place,  I  give  and  bequeath  the  sum  of 
50/.  ;  both  the  sums  aforesaid  to  be  laid  out,  or  laid  up  for 
them,  at  the  discretion  of  Mr.  Ambrose  Wright ; — to  Mr. 


538        whitefield's   life  and   times. 

Thomas  Adams,  of  Rodborough,  in  Gloucestershire,  my  only 
surviving  first  fellow-labourer,  and  beloved  much  in  the  Lord, 
I  give  and  bequeath  the  sum  of  50/.  ; — to  the  Reverend  Mr. 
Howel  Davies,  of  Pembrokeshire,  in  South  Wales,  that  good 
soldier  of  Jesus  Christ  ; — to  Mr.  Torial  Joss,  Mr.  Cornelius 
Winter,  and  all  my  other  dearly  beloved,  present,  staled,  as- 
sistant preachers  at  Tabernacle  and  Tottenham  Court  chapel, 
I  give  and  bequeath  10/.  each  for  mourning; — to  the  three 
brothers  of  Mr.  Ambrose  Wright,  Ann,  the  wife  of  his  broth- 
er, Mr.  Robert  Wright,  now  faithfully  and  skilfully  labouring 
and  serving  at  the  orphan-house  academy,  I  give  and  bequeath 
the  sum  of  10/.  each  for  mourning; — to  Mr.  Richard  Smith, 
now  a  diligent  attendant  on  me,  1  give  and  bequeath  the  sum 
of  50/.,  and  all  my  wearing  apparel,  which  I  shall  have  with 
me  in  my  journey  through  America,  or  on  my  voyage  to  Eng- 
land, if  it  should  please  an  all-wise  God  to  shorten  my  days 
in  either  of  those  situations. — Finally,  I  give  and  bequeath 
the  sum  of  100/.  to  be  distributed  at  the  discretion  of  my  ex- 
ecutors, hereinafter  mentioned,  for  mourning  among  my  old 
London  servants,  the  poor  widows  at  Tottenham  Court  cha- 
pel, and  the  Tabernacle  poor ;  especially  my  old  trusty,  dis- 
interested friend  and  servant,  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Wood.  All  the 
other  residue,  if  there  be  any  other  residues  of  moneys,  goods, 
and  chattels,  or  whatsoever  profits  may  arise  from  the  sale  of 
any  books,  or  any  manuscripts  that  I  may  leave  behind,  I 
give  and  bequeath  to  the  Right  Honourable  the  Countess 
dowager  of  Huntingdon;  or  in  case  of  her  ladyship  being  de- 
ceased at  the  time  of  my  departure,  to  the  Honourable  James 
Habersham,  Esq.  before  mentioned,  after  my  funeral  ex- 
penses and  just  debts  are  discharged,  towards  paying  off  any 
arrears  that  may  be  due  on  the  account  of  the  orphan-house 
academy,  or  for  annual  prizes  as  a  reward  for  the  best  three 
orations  that  shall  be  made  in  English,  on  the  subjects  men- 
tioned in  a  paper  annexed  to  this  my  will.  And  I  hereby  ap- 
point the  Honourable  James  Habersham,  Esq.  aforesaid,  to 
be  my  executor  in  respect  to  my  affairs  in  the  province  of 
Georgia,  and  my  trusty,  tried,  dearly  beloved  friends,  Charles 
Hardy,  Esq.,  Daniel  West,  Esq.,  and  Mr.  Robert  Keene,  to 
be  executors  of  this  my  last  will  and  testament,  in  respect  of 
my  affairs  in  England,  begging  each  to  accept  of  a  mourn- 
ing ring. 

"  To  all  my  other  Christian  benefactors,  and  more  intimate 
acquaintance,  I  leave  my  most  hearty  thanks  and  blessi.ig, 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        539 

assuring  them  that  I  am  more  and  more  convinced  of  the  un- 
doubted reality  and  infinite  importance  of  the  grand  gospel 
truths,  which  I  have  from  time  to  time  delivered  ;  and  am  so 
far  from  repenting  my  delivering  them  in  an  itinerant  way, 
that  had  I  strength  equal  to  my  inclination,  I  would  preach 
them  from  pole  to  pole  ;  not  only  because  I  have  found  them 
to  be  the  power  of  God  to  the  salvation  of  my  own  soul,  but 
because  I  am  as  much  assured  that  the  great  Head  of  the 
church  hath  called  me  by  his  word,  providence,  and  Spirit,  to 
act  in  this  way,  as  that  the  sun  shines  at  noon-day. — As  for 
my  enemies^  and  misjudging  friends,  I  most  freely  and  heart- 
ily forgive  them,  and  can  only  add,  that  the  last  tremendous 
day  will  only  discover  what  I  have  been,  what  I  am,  and  what 
I  shall  be,  when  time  itself  shall  be  no  more  ;  and  therefore 
from  my  inmost  soul,  I  close  all  by  crying,  Come,  Lord  Jesus, 
come  quickly  ;  even  so,  Lord  Jesus.     Amen  and  Amen! 

"  George  Whitefield." 

"  This  was  written  with  the  testator's  own  hand,  and  at 
his  desire,  and  in  his  presence,  sealed,  signed,  and 
delivered,  at  the  orphan-house  academy,  in  the  pro- 
vince of  Georgia,  before  us  witnesses,  Anno  Do- 
mini, March  22,  1770. 

{Robert  Bolton, 
Thomas  Dixon, 
Cornelius  Winter." 


"  N.  B.  I  also  leave  a  mourning  ring  to  my  honoured 
and  dear  friends,  and  disinterested  fellow-labourers,  the  Rev. 
John  and  Charles  Wesley,  in  token  of  my  indissoluble  union 
with  them,  in  heart  and  Christian  affection,  notwithstanding 
our  difference  in  judgment  about  some  particular  points  of 
doctrine.  Grace  be  with  all  them,  of  whatever  denomination, 
that  love  our  Lord  Jesus,  our  common  Lord,  in  sincerity." 

"Georgia,  Secretary's  Office. 
"  A  true  copy,  taken  from  the  original  in  this  office,  exa- 
mined and  certified  :  and  I  do  further  certify,  that  the  same 
was  duly  proved  ;  and  the  Hon.  James  Habersham,  one  of 
the  executors  therein  named,  was  duly  qualified  as  executor, 
before  his  Excellency,  James  Wright,  Esq.  governor  and  or- 
dinary of  the  said  province,  this  I  Oth  day  of  December,  1770. 
"Thomas  Moodie,  Deputy  Secretary." 


510      whitefield's    life    and    times. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

WHITEFIELD     PREACHING. 

This  volume  would  be  incomplete,  for  my  purpose,  without 
some  specimens  of  Whitefield's  preaching.  That  requires  to 
be  illustrated  as  well  as  analyzed,  now  that  the  man,  and  his 
message,  and  his  success,  are  fully  before  us.  It  is  also  ne- 
cessary to  preserve  some  specimens  of  his  sermons  in  this 
record  of  his  life,  because  his  sermons,  as  such,  will  hardly 
perpetuate  themselves.  His  name  may  continue  to  sell  them, 
but  even  already  they  are  but  seldom  read.  No  minister 
quotes  from  them,  except  when  an  anecdote  of  Whitefield 
brings  in  some  stroke  of  power  or  pathos  ;  and  no  student 
hears  or  thinks  of  them  as  models.  Indeed,  they  are  not 
models  for  the  pulpit  but  when  it  stands  in  the  fields  ;  and 
even  there,  it  must  be  surrounded  by  thousands  before  any 
man  could  wield  the  glittering  sword  of  Whitefield  with  effect. 

Besides  ;  there  is  not  much  to  be  learned  from  his  sermons 
now.  Their  best  maxims  are  but  common-place  to  us.  They 
were,  however,  both  new  and  strange  things  to  the  generality 
of  his  hearers.  He  was  as  much  an  original  to  them,  as 
Chalmers  is  to  us.  And,  let  it  never  be  forgotten,  that  White- 
field  and  Wesley  common-placed,  in  the  public  mind,  the  great 
truths  of  the  Reformation,  in  simple  forms  and  familiar  words. 
If  they  added  nothing  to  the  theology  of  their  country  that 
was  either  original  or  valuable,  they  threw  old  truths  into  new 
proportions  and  wide  circulation  This  is  forgotten  by  those 
who  say  with  a  sneer,  that  there  is  nothing  in  their  sermons. 
I  have  often  heard  this  said,  by  men  who  never  gave  currency 
to  a  single  maxim,  nor  birth  to  a  thought  worth  preserving. 
Such  critics  should  be  silent.  Their  newer  modes  of  think- 
ing and  writing  will  never  common-place  themselves  in  the 
world  or  the  church  ! 

There  is  one  peculiarity  about  Whitefield's  sermons  which 
his  critics  have  not  pointed  out,  and  which  I  should  like  to 
commend,  if  I  could  do  so  wisely.  I  mean, — his  modest 
egotism  in  preaching.     He  is  for  ever  speaking  of  himself 


whitefield's    life    and    times.        541 

when  he  touches  any  experimental  point,  or  grapples  with  a 
difficulty.  Then  he  opens  his  own  heart  in  all  its  inmost  re- 
cesses, and  details  the  process  by  which  his  own  mind  was 
made  up  ;  and  both  without  even  the  appearance  of  vanity,  or 
of  "  a  voluntary  humility."  It  is  all  done  with  the  artless 
simplicity  of  childhood.  He  thinks  aloud  about  himself,  only 
to  enable  others  to  know  what  to  think  about  their  own  per- 
plexities, dilemmas,  and  temptations.  He  shows  them  his 
own  soul,  merely  to  prove  that  "  no  strange  thing  has  befallen" 
their  souls. 

Nothing  is  so  unlike  Whitefield's  egotism,  however,  as  the 
whining  confessions  of  a  certain  clique  of  preachers,  who  talk 
much  about  the  plagues  and  lusts  of  their  own  hearts.  They 
are  theological  Rousseaus  or  Montaignes,  foaming  out  their 
own  shame,  if  not  glorying  in  it.  Nothing  is  so  disgusting  as 
such  obtrusive  egotism.  It  is,  indeed,  unblushing  effrontery, 
to  hawk  moral  disease  thus.  Whitefield  spoke  of  himself  in 
the  strong  language  of  the  Scriptures  ;  but  he  did  not  go  into 
details  when  applying  it  to  himself,  except  in  the  first  sketch 
of  his  life  ;  and  that  he  carefully  pruned  in  a  subsequent  edi- 
tion. 

The  following  passage  is  a  fair  specimen  of  his  egotism,— 
"  Do  not  say  that  I  preach  despair.  I  despair  of  no  one,  when 
I  conisder  how  God  had  mercy  on  such  a  wretch  as  I,  who 
was  running  in  a  full  career  to  hell.  I  was  hasting  thither  ; 
but  Jesus  Christ  passed  by  and  stopped  me.  Jesus  Christ 
passed  by  while  I  was  in  my  blood,  and  bid  me  live.  Thus  I 
am  a  monument  of  God's  free  grace  ;  and,  therefore,  my 
brethren,  I  despair  of  none  of  you,  when  I  consider,  I  say, 
what  a  wretch  I  was.  I  am  not  speaking  now  out  of  a  false 
humility,  or  a  pretended  sanctity,  as  the  Pharisees  call  it. 
No  ;  the  truth  in  Christ  I  speak  ;  and  therefore,  men  and  de- 
vils, do  your  worst  !  I  have  a  gracious  Master  who  will  pro- 
tect me.  It  is  His  work  I  am  engaged  in,  and  Jesus  Christ 
will  carry  me  above  their  rage."      Works. 

The  following  extracts  will  illustrate  the  vivacity  and  vehe- 
mency,  to  any  one  who  will  consider  the  scope  they  afford  for 
the  indulgence  of  both.  It  must,  however,  be  borne  in  mind, 
that  his  face  was  a  language,  and  his  intonation  music,  and  his 
action  passion.  So  much  was  this  the  case,  that  Garrich 
said  of  him,  he  could  make  men  weep  or  tremble  by  his  vari- 
ed utterances  of  the  word  "  Mesopotamia." 

Peter  on  the  Holy  Mount.  "  '  Peter  said  unto  Jesus, 
46 


542       whttefield's    life    and    times. 

Master,  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here  :  and  let  us  make  three 
tabernacles  ;  one  for  thee,  and  one  for  Moses,  and  one  for 
Elias  :  not  knowing  what  he  said.'  Peter,  when  he  had 
drank  a  little  of  Christ's  new  wine,  speaks  like  a  person  intox- 
icated ;  he  was  overpowered  with  the  brightness  of  the  mani- 
festations. 'Let  us  make  three  tabernacles  ;  one  for  thee, 
and  one  for  Moses,  and  one  for  Elias.'  It  is  well  added, 
'not  knowing  what  he  said.'  That  he  should  cry  out,  '  Mas- 
ter, it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here,'  in  such  good  company,  and  in 
so  glorious  a  condition,  is  no  wonder  ;  which  of  us  all  would 
not  have  been  apt  to  do  the  same  ?  But  to  talk  of  building 
tabernacles,  and  one  for  Christ,  and  one  for  Moses,  and  one 
for  Elias,  was  saying  something  for  which  Peter  himself  must 
stand  reproved.  Surely,  Peter,  thou  wast  not  quite  awake  ! 
Thou  talkest  like  one  in  a  dream.  If  thy  Lord  had  taken  thee 
at  thy  word,  what  a  poor  tabernacle  wouldst  thou  have  had,  in 
comparison  of  that  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the 
heavens,  in  which  thou  hast  long  since  dwelt,  now  the  earthly 
house  of  the  tabernacle  of  thy  body  is  dissolved  !  What !  build 
tabernacles  below,  and  have  the  crown  before  thou  hast  borne 
the  cross?  O  Peter,  Peter!  'Master,  spare  thyself,'  sticks  too, 
too  closely  to  thee.  And  why  so  selfish,  Peter  ?  Carest  thou 
not  for  thy  fellow-disciples  that  are  below,  who  came  not  up 
with  thee  to  the  mount?  carest  thou  not  for  the  precious  souls 
that  are  as  sheep  having  no  shepherd,  and  must  perish  for  ever 
unless  thy  Master  descends  from  the  mount,  to  teach  and  to 
die  for  them  ?  wouldst  thou  thus  eat  thy  spiritual  morsels 
alone?  Besides,  if  thou  art  for  building  tabernacles,  why 
must  there  be  three  of  them  ;  one  for  Christ,  and  one  for  Mo- 
ses, and  one  for  Elias  ?  are  Christ  and  the  prophets  divided  \ 
do  they  not  sweetly  harmonize  and  agree  in  one  ?  did  they  not 
prophesy  concerning  the  sufferings  of  thy  Lord,  as  well  as  of 
the  glory  that  should  follow  ?  Alas,  how  unlike  is  their  con- 
versation to  thine  !  Moses  and  Elias  came  down  to  talk  of 
suffering,  and  thou  art  dreaming  of  building  I  know  not  what 
tabernacles.  Surely,  Peter,  thou  art  so  high  upon  the  mount, 
that  thy  head  runs  giddy. 

"  However,  in  the  midst  of  these  infirmities,  there  was 
something  that  bespoke  the  honesty  and  integrity  of  his  heart. 
Though  he  knew  not  very  well  what  he  said,  yet  he  was  not  so 
stupid  as  his  pretended  successor  at  Rome.  He  does  not  fall 
down  and  worship  these  two  departed  saints,  neither  do  I  hear 
him  say  to  either,  Ora  jrro  nobis;  he  had  not  so  learned 


whitefield's   life   and  times.  543 

Christ ;  no,  he  applies  himself  directly  to  the  Head,  'he  said 
unto  Jesus,  Master,  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here.'  And  though 
he  was  for  building,  yet  he  would  not  build  without  his  Mas- 
ter's leave.  '  Master,  let  us  build  ;'  or,  as  St.  Mark  words  it, 
'Wilt  thou  that  we  build  three  tabernacles,  one  for  thee,  and 
one  for  Moses,  and  one  for  Elias  ? '  I  do  not  hear  him  add, 
and  one  for  James,  and  one  for  John,  and  one  for  Peter.  No, 
he  would  willingly  stay  out  with  them  upon  the  mount,  though 
it  was  in  the  cold  and  dark  night,  so  that  Christ  and  his  heav- 
enly attendants  were  taken  care  of.  The  sweetness  of  such 
a  heavenly  vision  would  more  than  compensate  for  any  bodily 
suffering  that  might  be  the  consequences  of  their  longer  abode 
there.  Nay,  further,  he  does  not  desire  that  either  Christ,  or 
Moses,  or  Elias,  should  have  any  trouble  in  building  ;  neither 
does  he  say,  Let  my  curates,  James  and  John,  build,  whilst  I 
sit  idle  and  lord  it  over  my  brethren ;  but  he  says,  '  Let  us 
build:'  he  will  work  as  hard,  if  not  harder  than  either  of  them, 
and  desire  to  be  distinguished  only  by  his  activity,  enduring 
hardness,  and  his  zeal  to  promote  the  welfare  of  their  common 
Lord  and  Master." 

Old  and  Infirm  Saints.  "  Did  Moses  and  Elias  appear 
in  glory  ?  Are  there  any  old  saints  here  1  I  doubt  not  but 
there  are  a  considerable  number.  And  are  any  of  you  afraid 
of  death?  Do  any  of  you  carry  about  with  you  a  body  that 
weighs  down  your  immortal  soul  ?  I  am  sure  a  poor  creature 
is  preaching  to  you,  that  every  day  drags  a  crazy  load  along. 
But  come,  believers,  come,  ye  children  of  God,  come,  ye 
aged,  decripit  saints,  come  and  trample  upon  that  monster 
death.  As  thou  goest  over  yonder  church-yard,  do  as  I  know 
an  old  excellent  Christian  in  Maryland  did;  go,  sit  upon  the 
grave  and  meditate  upon  thine  own  dissolution.  Thou  mayst, 
perhaps,  have  a  natural  fear  of  dying;  the  body  and  the  soul 
do  not  care  to  part  without  a  little  sympathy  and  a  groan  ; 
but  0  look  yonder,  look  up  to  heaven,  see  there  thy  Jesus, 
thy  Redeemer,  and  learn  that  thy  body  is  to  be  fashioned 
hereafter  like  unto  Christ's  most  glorious  body.  That  poor 
body  which  is  now  subject  to  gout  and  gravel,  and  that  thou 
canst  scarce  drag  along  ;  that  poor  body,  which  hinders  thee 
so  much  in  the  spiritual  life,  will  ere  long  hinder  thee  no 
more  :  it  shall  be  put  into  the  grave  ;  but  though  it  be  sown  in 
corruption,  it  shall  be  raised  in  incorruption ;  though  it  be 
sown  in  dishonour,  it  shall  be  raised  again  in  glory.  This 
consideration  made  blessed  Paul  to  cry  out,  '  0  death,  where 


544        whitefield's   life   and  times. 

is  thy  sting  ?  0  grave,  where  is  thy  victory?  '  Thy  soul  and 
body  shall  be  united  together  again,  and  thou  shalt  be  'for 
ever  with  the  Lord.'  Those  knees  of  thine,  which  perhaps 
are  hard  by  kneeling  in  prayer;  that  tongue  of  thine,  which 
hath  sung  hymns  to  Christ;  those  hands  of  thine,  which  have 
wrought  for  God;  those  feet  which  have  ran  to  Christ's  ordi- 
nances ;  shall  all,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  be  changed; 
and  thou  shalt  be  able  to  stand  under  an  exceeding  and  an 
eternal  weight  of  glory.  Come  then,  ye  believers  in  Christ, 
look  beyond  the  grave;  come,  ye  dear  children  of  God,  and 
however  weak  and  sickly  ye  are  now,  say,  Blessed  be  God,  I 
shall  soon  have  a  body  strong,  full  of  vigour  and  of  glory. 

"  But  as  this  speaks  comfort  to  saints,  it  speaks  terror  to 
sinners,  to  all  persons  that  live  and  die  out  of  Christ.  It  is 
the  opinion  of  Archbishop  Usher,  that  as  the  bodies  of  the 
saints  shall  be  glorified,  so  the  bodies  of  the  damned  shall  be 
deformed.  And  if  this  be  true,  alas  !  what  a  poor  figure  will 
the  fine  ladies  cut,  who  die  without  a  Christ !  What  a  poor 
figure  will  the  fine  gentleman  cut  in  the  morning  of  the  resur- 
rection, that  now  dresses  up  his  body,  and  at  the  same  time 
neglects  to  secure  an  interest  in  Christ  and  eternal  happiness  ! 
It  is  the  opinion,  likewise,  of  Archbishop  Usher,  that  damned 
souls  will  lose  all  the  good  tempers  they  had  here;  so  tha 
though  God  gave  unregenerate  people  a  constitutional  meek- 
ness, good  nature,  and  courage,  for  the  benefit  of  the  com- 
monwealth ;  yet,  the  use  of  these  things  being  over,  and  they 
having  died  without  Christ,  and  it  being  impossible  there  will 
be  an  appearance  of  good  in  hell,  their  good  tempers  will  be 
for  ever  lost.  If  this  be  so  it  is  an  awful  consideration  ;  and 
I  think  persons  who  love  their  bodies,  should  also  hence  take 
care  to  secure  the  welfare  of  their  souls." 

Hear  Christ.  "  Did  the  Father  say,  '  This  is  my  belov- 
ed Son,  hear  him  1 '  Then  let  every  one  of  our  hearts  echo 
to  this  testimony  given  of  Christ,  '  This  is  my  beloved  Sa- 
viour.' Did  God  so  love  the  world,  as  to  send  his  only  be- 
gotten Son,  his  well-beloved  Son  to  preach  to  us?  Then,  my 
dear  friends,  Hear  Him.  What  God  said  seventeen  hundred 
years  ago,  immediately  by  a  voice  from  heaven,  concerning 
his  Son  upon  the  mount,  that  same  thing  God  says  to  you 
immediately  by  his  word,  '  Hear  him.'  If  ye  never  heard 
him  before,  hear  him  now.  Hear  him  so  as  to  take  him  to 
be  your  Prophet,  Priest,  and  your  King ;  hear  him,  so  as  to 
take  him  to  be  your  God  and  your  all.     Hear  him  to-day,  ye 


whitepield's  life   and  times.         545 

youth,  while  it  is  called  to-day ;  hear  him  now,  lest  God 
should  cut  you  off  before  you  have  another  invitation  to  hear 
him  ;  hear  him  while  he  cries,  *  Come  unto  me ;  '  hear  him 
while  he  opens  his  hand  and  his  heart;  hear  him  while  he 
knocks  at  the  door  of  your  souls,  lest  you  should  hear  him 
saying,  '  Depart,  depart,  ye  cursed,  into  everlasting  fire,  pre- 
pared for  the  devil  and  his  angels.'  Hear  him,  ye  old  and 
gray-headed  ;  hear  him,  ye  that  have  one  foot  in  the  grave  ; 
hear  him,  I  say  :  and  if  ye  are  dull  of  hearing,  beg  of  God  to 
open  the  ears  of  your  hearts,  and  your  blind  eyes  ;  beg  of 
God  that  you  may  have  an  enlarged  and  a  believing  heart, 
and  that  ye  may  know  what  the  Lord  God  saith  concerning  you. 
God  will  resent  it,  he  will  avenge  himself  on  his  adversaries, 
if  you  do  not  hear  a  blessed  Saviour.  He  is  God's  Son,  he 
is  God's  beloved  Son  ;  he  came  upon  a  great  errand,  even  to 
shed  his  precious  blood  for  sinners  ;  he  came  to  cleanse  you 
from  all  sin,  and  to  save  you  with  an  everlasting  salvation. 
Ye  who  have  heard  him,  hear  him  again;  still  go  on,  believe 
in  and  obey  him,  and  by  and  by  you  shall  hear  him  saying, 
*  Come,  ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  receive  the  kingdom  pre- 
pared for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the  world.'" 

Beseeching  Sinners.  "O  my  brethren,  my  heart  is  en- 
larged towards  you.  I  trust  I  feel  something  of  that  hidden, 
but  powerful  presence  of  Christ,  whilst  I  am  preaching  to  you. 
Indeed,  it  is  sweet,  it  is  exceedingly  comfortable.  All  the 
harm  I  wish  you,  who  without  cause  are  my  enemies,  is,  that 
you  felt  the  like.  Believe  me,  though  it  would  be  hell  to  my 
soul,  to  return  to  a  natural  state  again,  yet  I  would  willingly 
change  states  with  you  for  a  little  while,  that  you  mi^ht  know 
what  it  is  to  have  Christ  dwelling  in  your  hearts  by  faith.  Do 
not  turn  your  backs  ;  do  not  let  the  devil  hurry  you  away  ;  be 
not  afraid  of  convictions ;  do  not  think  worse  of  the  doctrine, 
because  preached  without  the  church  walls.  Our  Lord,  in 
the  days  of  his  flesh,  preached  on  a  mount,  in  a  ship,  and  a 
field;  and  I  am  persuaded,  many  have  felt  his  gracious  pre- 
sence here.  Indeed,  we  speak  what  we  know.  Do  not  re- 
ject the  kingdom  of  God  against  yourselves  ;  be  so  wise  as  to 
receive  our  witness.  I  cannot,  I  loill  not  let  you  go  ;  stay  a 
little,  let  us  reason  together.  However  lightly  you  may  es- 
teem your  souls,  I  know  our  Lord  has  set  an  unspeakable  value 
on  them.  He  thought  them  worthy  of  his  most  precious 
blood.  I  beseech  you,  therefore,  O  sinners,  be  ye  reconciled 
to  God.     I  hope  you  do  not  fear  being  accepted  in  the  Belov- 

46* 


546        whitefield's   life    and    times. 

ed.  Behold,  he  calleth  you  ;  hehold,  he  prevents  and  follows 
you  with  his  mercy,  and  hath  sent  forth  his  servants  into  the 
highways  and  hedges,  to  compel  you  to  come  in.  Remem- 
ber, then,  that  at  such  an  hour  of  such  a  day,  in  such  a  year, 
in  this  place,  you  were  all  told  what  you  ought  to  think  con- 
cerning Jesus  Christ.  If  you  now  perish,  it  will  not  be  for 
lack  of  knowledge:  I  am  tree  from  the  blood  of  you  all.  You 
cannot  say  I  have,  like  legal  preachers,  been  requiring  you  to 
make  brick  without  straw.  I  have  not  bidden  you  to  make 
yourselves  saints,  and  then  come  to  God  ;  but  I  have  offered 
you  salvation  on  as  cheap  terms  as  you  can  desire.  I  have 
offered  you  Christ's  whole  wisdom,  Christ's  whole  righteous- 
ness, Christ's  whole  sanctification  and  eternal  redemption,  if 
you  will  but  believe  on  him.  If  you  say,  you  cannot  believe, 
you  say  right ;  for  faith,  as  well  as  every  other  blessing,  is 
the  gift  of  God  :  but  then  wait  upon  God,  and  who  knows  but 
he  may  have  mercy  on  thee  ?  Why  do  we  not  entertain  more 
loving  thoughts  of  Christ?  Or  do  you  think  he  will  have 
mercy  on  others,  and  not  on  you  ?  But  are  you  not  sinners? 
And  did  not  Jesus  Christ  come  into  the  world  to  save  sin- 
ners ?  If  you  say  you  are  the  chief  of  sinners,  I  answer,  that 
will  be  no  hinderance  to  your  salvation  ;  indeed  it  will  not,  if 
you  lay  hold  on  him  by  faith.  Read  the  evangelists,  and  see 
how  kindly  he  behaved  to  his  disciples  who  fled  from  and  de- 
nied him  ;  '  Go  tell  my  brethren,'  says  he.  He  did  not  say, 
Go  tell  those  traitors  ;  but,  '  Go  tell  my  brethren,  and  Peter;' 
as  though  he  had  said,  Go  tell  my  brethren  in  general,  and 
poor  Peter  in  particular,  '  that  1  am  risen  : '  0  comfort  his 
poor  drooping  heart,  tell  him  I  am  reconciled  to  him  ;  bid 
him  weep  no  more  so  bitterly  :  for  though  with  oaths  and 
curses  he  thrice  denied  me,  yet  I  have  died  for  his  sins,  I  am 
risen  again  for  his  justification  ;  I  freely  forgive  him  all. 
Thus  slow  to  anger,  and  of  great  kindness,  was  our  all-mer- 
ciful  High  Priest.  And  do  you  think  he  has  changed  his 
nature,  and  forgets  poor  sinners,  now  he  is  exalted  to  the 
right  hand  of  God?  No,  he  is  the  same  yesterday,  to-day, 
and  for  ever,  and  sitteth  there  only  to  make  intercession  for 
us.  Come  then,  ye  harlots;  come,  ye  publicans  ;  come,  ye 
most  abandoned  of  sinners,  come  and  believe  on  Jesus  Christ. 
Though  the  whole  world  despise  you  and  cast  you  out,  yet  he 
will  not  disdain  to  take  you  up.  O  amazing,  O  infinitely 
condescending  love  !  even  you  he  will  not  be  ashamed  to  call 
his  brethren.     How  will  you  escape,  if  you  neglect  such  a 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         547 

glorious  offer  of  salvation?  What  would  the  damned  spirits, 
now  in  the  prison  of  hell,  give,  if  Christ  was  so  freely  offered 
to  their  souls  !  And  why  arc  not  we  lifting  up  our  eyes  in  tor- 
ments ?  Does  any  one  out  of  this  great  multitude  dare  say, 
he  does  not  deserve  damnation?  If  not,  why  are  we  left,  and 
others  taken  away  by  death?  What  is  this  but  an  instance  of 
God's  free  grace,  and  a  sign  of  his  good  will  towards  us? 
Let  God's  goodness  lead  us  to  repentance  !  0  let  there  be 
joy  in  heaven  over  some  of  you  repenting  !  Though  we  are 
in  a.  field,  I  am  persuaded  the  blessed  angels  are  hovering 
now  around  us,  and  do  long,  '  as  the  hart  panteth  after  the 
water-brooks,'  to  sing  an  anthem  at  your  conversion.  Bless- 
ed be  God,  I  hope  their  joy  will  be  fulfilled.  An  awful  si- 
lence appears  amongst  us.  I  have  good  hope  that  the  words 
which  the  Lord  has  enabled  me  to  speak  in  your  ears  this 
day,  have  not  altogether  fallen  to  the  ground.  Your  tears  and 
deep  attention  are  an  evidence  that  the  Lord  God  is  amongst 
us  of  a  truth.  Come,  ye  Pharisees,  come  and  see,  in  spite  of 
your  fanatical  rage  and  fury,  the  Lord  Jesus  is  getting  him- 
self the  victory.  And,  brethren,  I  speak  the  truth  in  Christ, 
I  lie  not;  if  one  soul  of  you,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  be 
brought  to  think  savingly  of  Jesus  Christ  this  day,  I  care  not 
if  my  enemies  were  permitted  to  carry  me  to  prison,  and  put 
my  feet  fast  in  the  stocks,  as  soon  as  I  have  delivered  this 
sermon.  Brethren,  my  heart's  desire  and  prayer  to  God  is, 
that  you  may  be  saved.  For  this  cause  I  follow  my  Master 
without  the  camp.  I  care  not  how  much  of  his  sacred  re- 
proach I  bear,  so  that  some  of  you  be  converted  from  the  er- 
rors of  your  ways.  I  rejoice,  yea,  and  I  will  rejoice.  Ye 
men,  ye  devils,  do  your  worst :  the  Lord  who  sent  will  sup- 
port me.  And  when  Christ,  who  is  our  life,  and  whom  I  have 
now  been  preaching,  shall  appear,  I  also,  together  with  his 
despised  little  ones,  shall  appear  with  him  in  glory.  And  then, 
what  will  you  think  of  Christ?  I  know  what  you  will  think  of 
him.  You  will  think  him  to  be  the  fairest  among  ten  thousand : 
you  will  then  think  and  feel  him  to  be  a  just  and  sin-avenging 
Judge.  Be  ye  then  persuaded  to  kiss  him  lest  he  be  angry, 
and  so  you  be  banished  for  ever  from  the  presence  of  the 
Lord.  Behold,  I  come  to  you  as  the  angel  did  to  Lot.  Flee, 
flee  for  your  lives  ;  haste,  linger  no  longer  in  your  spiritual 
Sodom,  for  otherwise  you  will  be  eternally  destroyed.  Num- 
bers, no  doubt,  there  are  amongst  you,  that  may  regard  me 
no  more  than  Lot's  sons-in-law  regarded  him.     I  am  per- 


648       whitefield's    life    and   times. 

suaded  I  seem  to  some  of  you  as  one  that  mocketh  :  but  I 
speak  the  truth  in  Christ,  I  lie  not ;  as  sure  as  fire  and  brim- 
stone was  rained  from  the  Lord  out  of  heaven,  to  destroy  So- 
dom and  Gomorrah,  so  surely,  at  the  great  day,  shall  the  vials 
of  God's  wrath  be  poured  on  you,  if  you  do  not  think  seri- 
ously of,  and  act  agreeably  to,  the  gospel  of  the  Lord's  Christ. 
Behold,  I  have  told  you  before  ;  and  I  pray  God,  all  you  that 
forget  him  may  seriously  think  of  what  has  been  said,  before 
he  pluck  you  away,  and  there  be  none  to  deliver  you." 

Christless  Sinners.  "My  friends,  I  trust  I  feel  some- 
what of  a  sense  of  God's  distinguishing  love  upon  my  heart ; 
therefore  I  must  divert  a  little  from  congratulating  believers, 
to  invite  poor  Christless  sinners  to  come  to  him,  and  accept 
of  his  righteousness,  that  they  may  have  life.  Alas,  my  heart 
almost  bleeds  !  What  a  multitude  of  precious  souls  are  now 
before  me !  how  shortly  must  all  be  ushered  into  eternity ! 
and  yet,  0  cutting  thought !  was  God  now  to  require  all  your 
souls,  how  few,  comparatively  speaking,  could  really  say, 
The  Lord  our  righteousness  ! 

"And  think  you,  O  sinners,  that  you  will  be  able  to  stand 
in  the  day  of  judgment,  if  Christ  be  not  your  righteousness  ! 
No ;  that  alone  is  the  wedding  garment  in  which  you  must 
appear.  O  Christless  sinners,  I  am  distressed  for  you  !  the 
desires  of  my  soul  are  enlarged.  Oh  that  this  may  be  an  ac- 
cepted time  !  That  the  Lord  may  be  your  righteousness!  For 
whither  would  you  flee,  if  death  should  find  you  naked?  In- 
deed there  is  no  hiding  yourselves  from  his  presence.  The 
pitiful  fig-leaves  of  your  own  righteousness  will  not  cover 
your  nakedness,  when  G  od  shall  call  you  to  stand  before  him. 
Adam  found  them  ineffectual,  and  so  will  you.  O  think  of 
death  !  O  think  of  judgment !  Yet  a  little  while,  and  time 
shall  be  no  more ;  and  then  what  will  become  of  you,  if  the 
Lord  be  not  your  righteousness  ?  Think  you  that  Christ  will 
spare  you  ?  No,  he  that  formed  you  will  have  no  mercy  on 
you.  If  you  are  not  of  Christ,  if  Christ  be  not  your  righteous- 
ness, Christ  himself  shall  pronounce  you  damned.  Andean 
you  bear  to  think  of  being  damned  by  Christ  (  Can  you  bear 
to  hear  the  Lord  Jesus  say  to  you,  '  Depart  from  me,  ye 
cursed,  into  everlasting  fire,  prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  an- 
gels ?'  Can  you  live,  think  you,  in  everlasting  burnings?  Is 
your  flesh  brass,  and  your  bones  iron?  what  if  they  are? 
hell-fire,  that  fire  prepared  for  the  devd  and  his  angels,  will 
heat  them  through  and  through.     And  can  you  bear  to  depart 


whitefield's    life    and    times.         549 

from  Christ  ?  Oh  that  heart-piercing  thought !  Ask  those  holy 
souls,  who  are  at  any  time  bewailing  an  absent  God,  who 
walk  in  darkness,  and  see  no  light,  though  but  a  few  days  or 
hours  ;  ask  them  what  it  is  to  lose  a  sight  and  presence  of 
Christ1?  See  how  they  seek  him  sorrowing,  and  go  mourning 
after  him  all  the  day  long  !  And  if  it  is  so  dreadful  to  lose  the 
sensible  presence  of  Christ  only  for  a  day,  what  must  it  be  to 
be  banished  from  him  to  all  eternity  ? 

"  But  thus  it  must  be,  if  Christ  be  not  your  righteousness  : 
for  God's  justice  must  be  satisfied  ;  and,  unless  Christ's 
righteousness  is  imputed  and  applied  to  you  here,  you  must 
hereafter  be  satisfying  the  divine  justice  in  hell-torments  eter- 
nally; nay,  Christ  himself  shall  condemn  you  to  that  place  of 
torment.  And  how  cutting  is  that  thought !  Methinks  I  see 
poor,  trembling,  Christless  wretches,  standing  before  the  bar 
of  God,  crying  out,  Lord,  if  we  must  be  damned,  let  some  an- 
gel or  some  archangel,  pronounce  the  damnatory  sentence  : 
but  all  in  vain.  Christ  himself  shall  pronounce  the  irrevocable 
sentence.  Knowing,  therefore,  the  terrors  of  the  Lord,  let  me 
persuade  you  to  close  with  Christ,  and  never  rest  till  you  can 
say,  '  The  Lord  our  righteousness.'  Who  knows  but  the 
Lord  may  have  mercy  on,  nay,  abundantly  pardon,  you?  Beg 
of  God  to  give  you  faith  ;  and,  if  the  Lord  give  you  that,  you 
will  by  it  receive  Christ,  with  his  righteousness,  and  his  all. 
You  need  not  fear  the  greatness  or  number  of  your  sins. 
For,  are  you  sinners  ?  so  am  I.  Are  you  the  chief  of  sin- 
ners ?  so  am  I.  Are  you  backsliding  sinners  1  so  am  I. 
And  yet  the  Lord,  (for  ever  adored  be  his  rich,  free,  and  sove- 
reign grace,)  the  Lord  is  my  righteousness.  Come  then,  O 
young  men,  who  (as  I  acted  once  myself)  are  playing  the  pro- 
digal, and  wandering  away  afar  off  from  your  heavenly  Fa- 
ther's house,  come  home,  come  home,  and  leave  your  swine's 
trough.  Feed  no  longer  on  the  husks  of  sensual  delights  : 
for  Christ's  sake  arise,  and  come  home  !  your  heavenly  Fa- 
ther now  calls  you.  See  yonder  the  best  robe,  even  the  right- 
eousness of  his  dear  Son,  awaits  you.  See  it,  view  it  again 
and  again.  Consider  at  how  dear  a  rate  it  was  purchased, 
even  by  the  blood  of  God.  Consider  what  great  need  you 
have  of  it.  You  are  lost,  undone,  damned  for  ever,  without 
it.  Come  then,  poor  guilty  prodigals,  come  home  :  indeed,  I 
will  not,  like  the  elder  brother  in  the  gospel,  be  angry ;  no,  I 
will  rejoice  with  the  angels  in  heaven.  And  oh,  that  God 
would  now  bow  the  heavens,  and  come  down  !    Descend,  0 


550        whitefield's   life   a.  n  d   times. 

Son  of  God,  descend  ;  and  as  thou  hast  shown  in  me  such 
mercy,  O  let  thy  blessed  Spirit  apply  thy  righteousness  to 
some  young  prodigals  now  before  thee,  and  clothe  their  naked 
souls  with  thy  best  robe  !" 

Pleadings.  "My  text  is  introduced  in  an  awful  manner, 
••Verily  I  say  unto  you  ; '  and  what  Jesus  said  then,  he  says 
now  to  you,  and  to  me,  and  to  as  many  as  sit  under  a  preach- 
ed gospel,  and  to  as  many  as  the  Lord  our  God  shall  call. 
Let  me  exhort  you  to  see  whether  ye  are  converted  ;  whether 
such  a  great  and  almighty  change  has  passed  upon  any  of 
your  souls.  As  I  told  you  before,  so  I  tell  you  again,  ye  all 
hope  to  go  to  heaven,  and  I  pray  God  Almighty  ye  may  be  all 
there.  When  I  see  such  a  congregation  as  this,  if  my  heart 
is  in  a  proper  frame,  I  feel  myself  ready  to  lay  down  my  life, 
to  be  instrumental  only  to  save  one  soul.  It  makes  my  heart 
bleed  within  me,  it  makes  me  sometimes  most  unwilling  to 
preach,  lest  that  word  that  I  hope  will  do  good,  may  increase 
the  damnation  of  any,  and  perhaps  of  a  great  part  of  the  au- 
dority,  through  their  own  unbelief.  Give  me  leave  to  deal 
faithfully  with  your  souls.  I  have  your  dead  warrant  in  my 
hand  :  Christ  has  said  it,  Jesus  will  stand  to  it ,  it  is  like  the 
laws  of  the  Medes  and  Persians,  it  altereth  not.  Hark,  0 
man !  hark,  O  woman  !  he  that  hath  ears  to  hear  what  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ  says,  'Verily  I  say  unto  you,  Except  ye  be 
converted,  and  become  as  little  children,  ye  shall  not  enter 
into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.'  Though  this  is  Saturday  night, 
and  ye  are  now  preparing  for  the  Sabbath,  for  what  you  know, 
you  may  yet  never  live  to  see  the  Sabbath.  You  have  had  aw- 
ful proofs  of  this  lately;  a  woman  died  but  yesterday,  a  man 
died  th«  day  before,  another  was  killed  by  something  that  fell 
from  a  house,  and  it  may  be  in  twenty-four  hours  more,  many 
of  you  may  be  carried  into  an  unalterable  state.  Now  then, 
for  God's  sake,  for  your  own  soul's  sake,  if  ye  have  a  mind 
to  dwell  with  God,  and  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  dwelling  in 
everlasting  burning,  before  I  go  any  fuither,  silently  put 
up  one  prayer,  or  say  Amen  to  the  prayer  I  would  put  in 
your  mouths  ;  '  Lord,  search  me  and  try  me  ;  Lord,  examine 
my  heart,  and  let  my  conscience  speak ;  O  let  me  know, 
whether  I  am  converted  or  not ! '  What  say  ye,  my  dear  hear- 
ers 1  what  say  ye,  my  fellow-sinners  ?  what  say  ye,  my  guilty 
brethren  1  Has  God,  by  his  blessed  Spirit,  wrought  such  a 
change  in  your  hearts  ?  I  do  not  ask  you,  whether  God  has 
made  you  angels  1    that  I  know  will  never  be ;    I  only  ask 


whitefield's    life    and    times.       551 

you,  whether  ye  have  any  well-grounded  hope  to  think  that 
God  has  made  you  new  creatures  in  Christ  Jesus ?  so  re- 
newed in  and  changed  your  natures,  that  yon  can  say,  I  hum- 
bly hope,  that  as  to  the  habitual  temper  and  tendency  of  my 
mind,  that  my  heart  is  free  from  wickedness  ?  I  have  a 
husband,  I  have  a  wife,  I  have  also  children,  I  keep  a  shop, 
I  mind  my  business ;  but  I  love  these  creatures  for  God's 
sake,  and  do  every  thing  for  Christ ;  and  if  God  was  now 
to  call  me  away,  according  to  the  habitual  temper  of  my  mind, 
I  can  say,  Lord,  I  am  ready;  and  however  I  love  the  crea- 
tures, I  hope  I  can  say,  •  YVhom  have  I  in  heaven  but  thee? 
Whom  have  I  in  heaven,  0  my  God  and  my  dear  Redeemer, 
that  I  desire  in  comparison  of  thee  ! '  Can  you  thank  God 
for  the  creatures,  and  say  at  the  same  time,  these  are  not  my 
Christ?  I  speak  in  plain  language,  you  know  my  way  of 
preaching  :  I  do  not  want  to  play  the  orator,  I  do  not  want  to 
be  counted  a  scholar  :  1  want  to  speak  so  as  I  may  reach  poor 
people's  hearts.  What  say  ye,  my  dear  hearers  ?  Are  ye  sensi- 
ble of  your  weakness  ?  Do  ye  feel  that  you  are  poor,  misera- 
ble, blind,  and  naked,  by  nature  ?  Do  ye  give  up  your  hearts, 
your  affections,  your  wills,  your  understanding,  to  be  guided 
by  the  Spirit  of  God,  as  a  little  child  gives  up  its  hand 
to  be  guided  by  its  parent?  Are  ye  little  in  your  own  eyes? 
Do  ye  think  meanly  of  yourselves  ?  And  do  you  want  to 
learn  something  new  every  day  ?  I  mention  these  marks, 
because  I  am  apt  to  believe  they  are  more  adapted  to  a  great 
many  of  your  capacities.  A  great  many  of  you  have  not  that 
flowing  of  affection  ye  sometimes  had,  therefore  ye  are  for 
giving  up  all  your  evidences,  and  making  way  for  the  devil's 
coming  into  your  heart.  You  are  not  brought  up  to  the  mount 
as  ye  used  to  be,  therefore  ye  conclude  ye  have  no  grace  at 
all.  But  if  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  has  emptied  thee,  and 
humbled  thee  :  if  he  is  giving  thee  to  see  and  know  that  thou 
art  nothing;  though  thou  art  not  growing  upward,  thou  art 
growing  downward  ;  and  though  thou  hast  not  so  much  joy, 
yet  thy  heart  is  emptying  to  be  more  abundantly  replenished 
by  and  by. 

"  This  may  be  esteemed  as  enthusiasm  and  madness,  and 
as  a  design  to  undermine  the  established  church.  No  !  God 
is  my  judge  : — I  should  rejoice  to  see  all  the  world  adhere  to 
her  Articles — I  should  rejoice  to  see  the  ministers  of  the 
church  of  England  preach  up  those  very  Articles  they  have 
subscribed  to  ;  but  those  ministers  who  do  preach  up  the  Ar- 


552      whitefield's    life    and    times. 

tides  are  esteemed  as  madmen,  enthusiasts,  schismatics,  and 
underminers  of  the  established  church !  and  though  ihey  say 
these  things  of  me,  blessed  be  God,  they  are  without  foundation. 
My  dear  brethren,  I  am  a  friend  to  her  Articles,  I  am  a  friend 
to  her  Homilies,  I  am  a  friend  to  her  Liturgy  ;  and,  if  they 
did  not  thrust  me  out  of  their  churches,  I  would  read  them 
every  day  :  but  I  do  not  confine  the  Spirit  of  God  there  :  for 
I  say  it  again,  I  love  all  that  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
esteem  him  my  brother,  my  friend,  my  spouse  ; — aye,  my 
very  soul  is  knit  to  that  person  !  The  spirit  of  persecution 
will  never — indeed  it  will  never  make  any  to  love  Jesus 
Christ.  The  Pharisees  make  this  to  be  madness,  so  much  as 
to  mention  persecution  in  a  Christian  country  ;  but  there  is 
as  much  the  spirit  of  persecution  now  in  the  world  as  ever 
there  was.  Their  will  is  as  great,  but  blessed  be  God,  they 
want  the  power  ;  otherwise,  how  soon  would  they  send  me  to 
prison,  make  my  feet  fast  in  the  stocks,  yea,  would  think  they 
did  God  service  in  killing  me,  and  would  rejoice  to  take  away 
my  life." 

Mount  Moriah.  " '  They  came  to  the  place  of  which  God 
had  told  Abraham.  He  built  an  altar  there,  and  laid  the  wood 
in  order,  and  bound  Isaac  his  son,  and  laid  him  on  the  altar 
upon  the  wood.' 

"  And  here  let  us  pause  awhile,  and  by  faith  take  a  view  of 
the  place  where  the  father  has  laid  him.  I  doubt  not  but  the 
blessed  angels  hovered  round  the  altar,  and  sang,  '  Glory  be 
to  God  in  the  highest !  '  for  giving  such  faith  to  man.  Come 
all  ye  tender-hearted  parents,  who  know  what  it  is  to  look 
over  a  dying  child  :  fancy  that  you  saw  the  altar  erected  be- 
fore you,  and  the  wood  laid  in  order,  and  the  beloved  Isaac 
bound  upon  it :  fancy  that  you  saw  the  aged  parent  standing 
by  weeping.  For  why  may  we  not  suppose  that  Abraham 
wept,  since  Jesus  himself  wept  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus  ?  Oh 
what  pious,  endearing  expressions  passed  now  alternately  be- 
tween the  father  and  the  son  !  Josephus  records  a  pathetic 
speech  made  by  each,  whether  genuine,  I  know  not :  but 
methinks  I  see  the  tears  trickle  down  the  patriarch  Abra- 
ham's cheeks  ;  and  out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart,  he 
cries,  '  Adieu,  adieu,  my  son  !  the  Lord  gave  thee  to  me, 
and  the  Lord  calls  thee  away  :  blessed  be  the  name  of  the 
Lord  !  adieu,  my  Isaac,  my  only  son,  whom  I  love  as  my 
own  soul  :  adieu,  adieu  !  '  I  see  Isaac,  at  the  same  time, 
meekly  resigning  himself  into  his  heavenly  Father's  hands, 


whitefield's   life   and   times.         553 

and  praying  to  the  Most  High,  to  strengthen  his  earthly  pa- 
rent to  strike  the  stroke.  But  why  do  I  attempt  to  describe 
what  either  son  or  father  felt.  It  is  impossible  :  we  may, 
indeed,  form  some  faint  idea  of,  but  shall  never  fully  compre- 
hend it,  till  we  come  and  sit  down  with  them  in  the  kingdom 
of  neaven,  and  hear  them  tell  the  pleasing  story  over  again. 
Hasten,  0  Lord,  that  blessed  time  !  0  let  thy  kingdom  come  ! 
I  see  your  hearts  affected.  I  see  your  eyes  weep.  And,  in- 
deed, who  can  refrain  weeping  at  the  relation  of  such  a  story  ? 
But,  behold,  I  show  you  a  mystery,  hid  under  the  sacrifice  of 
Abraham's  only  son,  which,  unless  your  hearts  are  hardened, 
must  cause  you  to  weep  tears  of  love,  and  that  plentifully  too. 
I  would  willingly  hope  you  even  prevent  me  here,  and  are  rea- 
dy to  say, '  It  is  the  love  of  God,  in  giving  Jesus  Christ  to 
die  for  our  sins.'  " 

Peter.  "  Spiritual  sloth,  as  well  as  spiritual  pride,  helped 
to  throw  this  apostle  down.  The  Sun,  that  glorious  Sun  of 
Righteousness,  was  now  about  to  enter  into  his  last  eclipse. 
Satan,  who  had  left  him  for  a  season,  or  till  the  season  of  his 
passion,  is  now  to  be  permitted  to  bruise  his  heel  again. 
This  is  his  hour,  and  now  the  powers  of  darkness  summon 
and  exert  their  strongest  and  united  efforts.  A  hymn  is  a 
prelude  to  his  dreadful  passion.  From  the  communion-table 
the  Saviour  retires  to  the  garden.  A  horrible  dread,  and  in- 
expressible load  of  sorrow,  begin  to  overwhelm  and  weigh 
down  his  innocent  soul.  His  body  can  scarcely  sustain  it. 
See  how  he  falters  !  See  how  his  hands  hang  down,  and  his 
knees  wax  feeble  under  the  amazing  pressure  !  He  is  afflict- 
ed and  oppressed  indeed.  See !  see,  0  my  soul,  how  he 
sweats  !  But  what  is  that  which  I  see  1  Blood  ! — drops  of 
blood — great  drops  of  blood  falling  to  the  ground.  Alas  ! 
was  ever  sorrow  like  unto  this  sorrow  !  Hark  !  what  is  that 
I  hear?  Oh  dolorous  complaint !  '  Father,  if  it  be  possible, 
let  this  cup  pass  from  me.'  Hark  !  he  speaks  again.  Amaz- 
ing !  the  Creator  complains  to  the  creature  :  '  My  soul  is 
exceeding  sorrowful,  even  unto  death :  tarry  you  here  and 
watch  with  me.'  And  now,  he  retires  once  more.  But  see 
how  his  agony  increases — hark!  how  he  prays!  and  that,  too, 
yet  more  earnestly  :  'Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass 
from  me.'  And  will  his  heavenly  Father  leave  him  comfort- 
less? No.  An  angel  (0  happy,  highly  favoured  angel!)  is 
sent  from  heaven  to  strengthen  him.  But  where  is  Peter  all 
this  while?   We  are  told  that  the  holy  Jesus  took  him,  with 

47 


554  whitefield's    life    and    times. 

James  and  John,  into  the  garden.  Surely  he  will  not  leave 
his  Lord  in  such  deep  distress  !  What  is  he  doing?  I  blush 
to  answer.  Alas!  he  is  sleeping:  nay,  though  awakened 
once  by  his  agonizing  Lord,  with  a  'Simon  Peter,  sleepest 
thou  1  What !  couldst  thou  not  watch  with  me  one  hour  ? ' 
yet  his  eyes,  notwithstanding  his  profession  of  constancy  and 
care,  are  heavy  with  sleep.      Lord,  what  is  man!  "     Works. 

I  have  now  finished  my  portraiture  of  Whitefield.     It  is,  I 
am  aware,  not  fine  ;  but  it  is  faithful,  so  far  as  I  know. 


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